


Caniformes - Timestamps

by give_it_a_little_nudge



Series: Caniformes [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: All kinds of Impact Play, Alpha!Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Breeding Bench, Childbirth, Claiming, Corporal Punishment, Did I mention impact play?, Dom!Cas, Dom!Michael, Dom/sub, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Discipline, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Impact Play, Kid Fic, M/M, Male Lactation, Male maternity, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Pack Dynamics, Poly-parenting, Polyamory, Public Sex, Sex Work, Sex and spanking as therapy, Sexual Roleplay, Spanking, Strapping, Sub!Dean, Team Dean Winchester's Red Ass, Wolf Pack, alpha!cas, feast orgy, omega!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-05-07 10:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 79,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19207603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/give_it_a_little_nudge/pseuds/give_it_a_little_nudge
Summary: After the wedding but before the house fills up with little paws.  For your perusal, a few shortish vignettes.  What's left to say now that they've found their stride?  Turns out, quite a lot.These Timestamps follow the full story,CANIFORMES.  If you haven't read that, good luck to you.  The timestamps can be read as stand alones, I suppose, but you'll be missing a hell of a lot of context.





	1. December 9, 2017

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melodina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodina/gifts).



> Only a few months after we left off - minus the epilogue. The original story spans from the day before Valentine's Day in 2017, to September 10th, essentially. Timestamps are going to start filling in gaps here and there during their first few years before they really get going as parents and the next full story takes off.
> 
> Enormous thanks, as always, to [Melodina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodina/pseuds/Melodina) for her constant support.
> 
> Thanks for the beta and all the support to [Steeleye1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye1/pseuds/steeleye1).

Caniformes Timestamps – 1

 

  
December 9, 2017

 

Dean paced in the upstairs gameroom with his cell phone to his ear. Alone on a Saturday morning, He wasn’t tempering his voice. 

“Have you mined the Keller rosters? We could do a temporary transfer from Dayton or Littleton.”

_”We already checked, alpha,”_ came the reply. _”Everyone’s busy. We’re going to have to cancel the play room until we can re-staff. We can’t run it like this, not and charge people fees. It’s barely limping as it is, and now we’ve lost Lloyd AND Scott.”_

Dean sighed, turned on his heel, and rubbed his neck all in one frustrated motion. “We need a greeter? That’s it? Can’t we do it without a fluffer at the door? Jesus Christ, Jo, men can fluff themselves. There’s not a dude over the age of thirteen who doesn’t know how to raise the battle flag himself.”

_”Stop trying to stretch it to work. It doesn’t work without a greeter and you know it. It’s not just the fluffing, Dean. It’s the tone the greeter sets. It’s the pacing and the oversight. It’s a critical part of the experience.”_

“You do it, then,” he suggested. “You’re a Bottom. You can do this.”

Jo didn’t respond to that at all. She let the silence drag. She let Dean figure out why assigning a woman to a play room that was relegated for homosexual men was a bad idea. Dean didn’t answer his own asinine statement either. He floomped onto the sofa and curled over his own lap.

“Jo, I can’t ask him.”

_“Dean…”_

“No! I can’t!”

_“Fine. Then we close the play room for a while…”_

Dean chewed on both lips sequentially. “What about reaching out to the community?” he tried. “Some of the guys in there show up daily. They know what they’re doing. See if one of them will…”

_“Not a chance,”_ Jo interrupted. _“You know damn well Benny would never go for putting civilians in an official role. Goddamnit, Dean, it’s not that complicated. Just ask him. We’ve never closed the play room – not in the six years since we opened it.”_

“Fuck you, Harvelle! This is my mate you’re bowling over! You have any idea how hard we had to work to get this balance thing figured out? If I ask him to roll that rule back, we start all over!” Dean was on his feet and pacing furiously again. “Some things are fucking sacred, damnit!”

“What are you shouting about?”

Michael’s voice from the doorway caused Dean to jump straight into the air and drop his phone. He hadn’t felt his mate approach, and he had no idea how much Michael had heard.

“Dean?” the Omega tried again.

Dean scooped up his phone as he rushed forward to help a waddling Michael to the couch.

“What are you doing up? You’re not supposed to be on your feet for anything but showers and toilets.” Michael let Dean lay him out lengthwise on the couch and put a pillow beneath his feet.

“I heard shouting, and I felt you tense up. What’s wrong?” Michael shifted up onto a hip a little to keep the weight against his spine from being straight-on. They could both hear Jo’s voice, tinny through the phone, and Dean hung up on her without hesitation.

“The usual work tangle,” he demurred. “There’s always a crisis of some kind or other. It’s nothing we won’t get straightened out.”

“What rule do you need rolled back?” Michael asked him with a pointed look, putting paid to any hopes Dean had that Michael hadn’t heard that part.

“I’m happy with the rules exactly as they are, baby,” Dean assured him with a kiss to his mate’s forehead. Dean opened the drapes to let the pale winter sun in and filled a water glass from the faucet in the far corner. Michael sighed.

“I thought The Facility had moved past staffing problems when you guys merged,” Michael told his mate after dutifully drinking from the glass Dean held for him. “Why’s there still a shortage?”

“Who said anything about a shortage?”

“Do I have to call Jo myself?” Michael threatened. “Come on, Dean. Talk to me. What’s wrong.”

Dean wilted and set the glass down. “It’s the men-only play room,” he admitted quietly. “It’s an open concept free-style power-exchange play room, and to keep it open, we need a staff of five: two Tops and three Bottoms.”

“And you don’t have enough contractors,” Michael inferred.

“It’s always gonna be a pinch point, Michael – keeping male Bottoms on staff. They Mate and they either move away, or their mates restrict their contact allowance at work.”

“Like I did with you.”

“Uh, yeah, like that. But, man, that rule makes sense for you and me. My role there is way more than the hands-on stuff anyway. I needed to pull back and take a higher-level view.”

“My restriction had nothing to do with the role you play at work, Dean. It was about letting your birth control hormones leave your system without putting anyone at risk, and it was about turning your focus away from those other bodies so you could concentrate on bonding with me. Maybe it’s time to think about…”

“No! I’m not asking you to rescind the rule. I like that rule!”

“But if it’s limiting your ability to take care of your career the way they need you to…?”

Dean paced. “It won’t kill us to cut the hours in the play room,” he said definitively. “We have enough coverage to go to three days a week.”

Michael watched him pace. “What’s it for? This play room? Who uses it, and what do they get there that they can’t get somewhere else?”

Dean stopped pacing and glared out the window in thought.

“Dean, answer the question.” Michael’s Dom voice cut through the swirl in Dean’s head, and the alpha huffed and turned, reached his mate in three strides, and sank to his knees at Michael’s chest. He rested his forehead against Michael’s swollen belly and wrapped his arms awkwardly around his mate, soaking in the connection.

“It’s okay,” Michael whispered into his hair. “Relax, love. You’re my good boy. Always my good boy. You’re not doing anything wrong. I trust you, Dean. Talk to me. Please don’t be afraid.”

Dean licked his lips and raised his head. “It’s for people with high Dom or Sub ratings who can’t afford to pay for contract scenes as often as they need them and who don’t have a pack or a partner to turn to.”

“So…it’s a vital community service,” Michael concluded for him.

Dean wiped his mouth with his palm and sat upright on his knees. “There are other alternatives,” he said. “Most of those guys can still score a totally free hookup at a bar if the line’s too long to get in the door of the play room. And we wouldn’t have to close it completely, just limit the hours. We basically lose one shift. That’s all. And as soon as we replace the two guys who just Mated, we’re back in business.”

“How long does it take to replace someone?” Michael asked him, following Dean’s facial expressions with his eyes and both bonds.

Dean mumbled into Michael’s belly.

“What was that?” the Omega asked with a hand raising Dean’s chin.

“Six weeks. Give or take,” Dean told him. “There’s a lot of regulatory hurdles to jump. Then there’s training and certification just to this site. It’s not a quick process no matter how we do it. This work puts civilians into incredibly vulnerable positions. We have to be careful who we use to staff it.”

“And you’re certified to staff it?”

Dean looked down.

“Right. Stupid question.”

“Michael, I like our rules.” Dean turned his head and laid it on Michael’s belly. Michael carded his fingers through Dean’s hair and met his eye affectionately.

“I know you do,” he soothed. “But we aren’t the guys we were when we set those rules. We don’t need them the way we did. We have enough trust built up on credit to fill in any gaps…if there are any gaps. Dean, I trust you. If you need to step into that role for a while until the staff fills back in, I’m not going to stand in your way. I know you’re already back on the B.C. regimen. I can smell it on you.”

Dean pursed his lips and widened his eyes in surprise. “That wasn’t meant to be a secret, Sir! I wasn’t lying to you about that!”

Michael chuckled affectionately. “And yet you never mentioned it either. And stop ‘Sir-ing’ me. I’m not mad. It’s your body, man.”

“It’s yours too,” Dean told him as he lowered his eyes again.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Michael told him gently with a hand in his hair.

“I felt weird without the birth control in my system,” Dean confessed. “I felt naked somehow. I didn’t like it. Probably just years of conditioning, but I tried to ignore the sensation of being without my armor, and it wouldn’t go away. But then I felt guilty because, what do I need to be on birth control for? You’re already pregnant, and I’m not fucking anyone else. It’s not like I’m ever gonna Top anyone but you anyway. But it just felt like an itch under my skin until I started downing the pills everyday like I used to.”

“It’s okay, Dean. Your hormones are more stable on the pill anyway. It helps us keep you steady. I don’t care what your reasons are. If it makes you feel more secure, then it’s fine with me. It isn’t my decision to make, sweetheart.” It was the sweetness of Michael’s Omega that had come as the biggest surprise to Dean. Even as his mate, Dean found that it seemed to have come out of nowhere.

Dean frowned without lifting his head. “You don’t think I was trying to worm my way back into a hands-on role at work and laying the groundwork without telling you?” His head bounced a little at Michael’s laugh.

“Were you?” he asked, highly amused.

“No!”

“Then chill out about it. Baby, I’m still here for you however you need me to be. But I’m not going to put roadblocks up across your career path. That’s not the kind of control I crave.”

“You did at first,” Dean reminded him.

“Maybe. Maybe I was just being a dick to see how far you would let me go before you slapped me down for impertinence.”

Dean shook his head. “No. You needed it. You needed to have something stable locked up in your fist, something that no asshole alpha was gonna try to wrestle away from you. Man, I’m _not_ asking. I’m not that guy. I made you a fucking promise! And I…”

“Sshhh. I know, Dean. I love you too.”

Dean sighed miserably, and Michael continued to stroke his hair. Beneath his temple, the pup kicked out. Dean turned his head and kissed right over the spot where a foot or a knee was noticeably pressing outward.

“I love you, Michael.”

“Go talk it over with Cas,” Michael instructed. “I won’t stand in your way. Don’t let me stand in your way, Dean. Not ever. That’s not the kind of relationship I want.” His stomach gurgled under Dean’s ear, and the alpha sighed and pushed himself up.

“First, you need to eat. Stay here. I’ll bring you something.”

 

  
**************************

 

  
Dean took a good thirty minutes to prep himself in the locker room before the play room hours started. It had been a long time since he’d been the greeter in there. Jo was right. The greeter set the tone for the whole room and could make the difference between a satisfying customer experience and a weirdly awkward hour of ‘what the hell am I doing here’?

A good greeter got their juices flowing enough to settle inhibitions so that they flowed straight past that initial contact and into whatever else the room had to offer. He would be the lowest Sub in the room by default, a fixture whose place was to take whatever the entrants wanted to press into him without balking. For Submissive customers, he groveled hungrily, offered without constraint, and granted them license to let their guard down. If the greeter was even more Submissive than they, then surely they bore no shame in seeking what they needed from the room at large. For Dominants, his carefully attentive hands, mouth, and eyes stoked embers into flames and sent them forth, firing on all cylinders.

Michael was not in his head this afternoon. Castiel was staying in his office. Sam went home to see that dinners were served on time to the pack and Dean need not split his attention between where he was and where his family called him to be. The pack had him – had his back.

“Yo, Winchester!” called Jo from the doorway. “You in here?”

“I’m almost ready,” he grunted back, slipping the dildo out and using his thighs to press up out of his squat. “Just wanna oil up a little more.”

“Five minutes,” she told him without rounding the short wall that served as a visual barricade.

“Yeah. Coming.” He applied a fine layer of massage oil to his chest and shoulders, over his hips, over the curve of his ass, down his belly and onto his thighs, rubbing it in enough that his skin shone but he wasn’t a greased pig at the fair. He slipped a robe on to walk the halls in, but he still elicited a wolf whistle or two. There was nothing subtle about the bare feet and the scent of synthetic slick that followed him to the double doors of the play room. Jo was there. She scanned his red and gold striped wristband into the system. She asked him the routine questions, filed his responses, and took his robe before unlocking the door and letting him slip in.

Everyone else was already there. Two Dominants, alpha-Doms both of them, with their red and black striped wristbands, and two Submissives, both beta-Subs with their yellow and gold bands, stood casually stretching. Dean’s red and gold strapped wrist was the pot at the end of the rainbow for this crowd, and he knew it. Alpha-Subs rarely agreed to serve as greeters. It was too demeaning for an alpha. For most alphas, anyway. He would draw them to him like flies on molasses once word spread that The Facility was once again hosting an alpha-Sub in the lowest spot – and in the big, inexpensive public room to boot.

The struggle was likely to be coaxing them away from the door and into the play space with Dean serving as greeter.

Above the door, the light blinked on. Dean met everyone’s eye and silently asked for their go-ahead. Mason pressed Tyler’s head to one of the mattresses and sank smoothly into him from behind with a groan of pleasure while Ryan swallowed Austin down in the middle of the room. Dean blew out a breath and swung his arms. Ready or not.

Showtime.

He knelt at the door and pulled it open just enough for one man to squeeze through. Dean didn’t check his wristband or even look at his face. He closed the door behind the man with a snap and buried his face in the man’s crotch, pulling an immediate moan from the fellow, clearly an alpha from his scent, the size of his dick, and the fact that an uninflamed knot impeded the reach of Dean’s outstretched tongue toward his balls. Dean wrapped his arms around the man’s thighs and went to work slurping and salivating down the length of his cock, unfettered by social confines. 

This was not a room for restraint.

“Mother of God,” the faceless man moaned above him. He stood still and let Dean work him over for several blissful moments before pulling out and landing a hard slap across Dean’s cheek. Dean let himself fall with the force of the strike, landing on all fours and rotating to present his slicked asshole to the Dominant. Behind him, the man hoisted him by his hips and thrust into him, standing with his knees bent. Dean’s breath caught audibly, and he lost leverage against the floor as his knees were lifted into the air.

It had been a very long time since he’d experienced this: the uncertainty of a partner he didn’t know, the pleasure of facing a scene from his show persona, the pure unadulterated bliss of a faceless fucking Dominant-to-Submissive. Dean let go. His body took the pounding from behind, and his eyes rolled back in his head. His nerves sang.

It was so easy.

It was nothing like what he gave to Castiel or to Michael. That was a different man entirely. This was all physicality and showmanship, and it felt so good Dean wondered for the first time in his life if it might be a sin.

Without warning, the alpha at his back set his knees back down, pulled out, left a couple of firm satisfied swats on his ass, and wandered into the room, calling a greeting out to Austin. Dean glanced over his shoulder. The guy was tall enough to be a beta, and his shoulders were wide and muscled. Dean’s mouth watered, hoping he’d get another go with the guy. Once the room filled, there would be more freedom for the greeter to leave his post and offer himself around. For now though, he had a job to do.

Dean turned back to the door and opened it again. This time it was a skinny twink. The kid couldn’t have been 17 yet. He was Omega, and very likely a Sub. Dean looked him in the eye with a confident smirk and licked his lips. The kid sank down to his knees in front of Dean and followed his lead when Dean kissed right into his mouth. Definitely a Sub. And he tasted good. Dean used a touch of his alpha to direct their play, running exploratory hands all over the boy’s lithe body and encouraging him to follow suit. When the kid dipped his fingers along the crack of Dean’s ass and then jumped back, startled at his own daring, Dean caught his hand and put it back. He laced their fingers and explored his ass together, all the while kissing deeply. The Omega kneed up closer, and Dean could feel his hard-on press into his own hip. Dean’s sat heavy on the boy’s thigh. They panted into each other’s mouths as their laced fingers continued to stroke up and down Dean’s crack, breaching his hole every now and then just slightly. Everything was slick and warm.

“You ever been in here before?” Dean asked in a whisper.

“Nuh-unh,” the kid breathed with his eyes closed.

“We’re gonna take good care of you,” he promised. “There’s cameras and monitors, and no one’s going to do anything you don’t want them to do. Goddamn, you’re sexy. Can I rim you just a little? Please?”

“Shit,” the pup whispered back. He seemed incapable of moving, so Dean crawled around him, trailing fingers along his torso as he went, and causing the boy to pant harder. Dean moved slowly, assessing his state of mind. The Omega trembled as he fell onto his hands and knees, his cock pointed like an arrow at the ground. Dean licked his lips and dipped his tongue into the slick-sweated channel entrance between the boy’s slick cheeks. He pointed his tongue and teased at his entrance. His slick was thick and sweet. And copious. Dean tickled the rim of his hole with his tongue and then flattened it without warning and dragged it upward, pulling hard at the delicate flesh. The boy cried out and fell to his elbows, shoving his ass backward into Dean’s face. Dean took hold of his hips and lost himself in the taste and the feel, stretching his tongue out to reach into the hot depths of the Omega.

“You need to pace yourself, greeter,” said a voice above him, and Dean startled and looked up. Mason stood there with his hand outstretched to help the Omega to his feet. “I’ll take this one off your hands, and you can get back to your job. Let the next one in.”

“Yessir,” Dean scrambled to obey, and the Omega found himself swept gracefully into a bridal carry and hauled into the room. Dean watched him go a little reluctantly, but he had a job to do. He barely had the knob turned when an alpha bodily crashed through the door, sending Dean sprawling.

“Yeah, Buddy!” the man crowed, loud and obnoxious. “Would’ja look at you?” He lifted Dean back to his knees by his hair. “WHOO!” The alpha crammed his dick straight into Dean’s mouth, choking him and causing him to gag gracelessly. “Choke on that cock, dude! YEAH!” He fucked hard into Dean’s mouth, and Dean worked rapidly to relax his throat and suppress a need to vomit. He grabbed his wrist in his hand behind his back and let the alpha move him with a fist in his hair. Dean huffed hard and fast through his nose. His eyes watered, and his lips stretched.

“Fuckin’ beautiful!” the man shouted. “Goddamn, I love an alpha mouth on my cock!” He ripped Dean’s head backward and shoved the underside of his cock in Dean’s face. Dean fought not to grimace and dodge. He blinked furiously. “Get those alpha lips on my knot, bitch! You know what I want!”

Dean reached outward with his tongue and drew the flaccid knot into his mouth, massaging it gently and feeling it begin to swell under his ministrations. He could feel Mason go alert deeper in the room. He could practically feel the alpha monitors outside begin to stand. Dean released his wrist and pressed his open palms to the floor. 

Open hands were a private signal to the monitors. Dean was fine. The dude was a douche, but he was roleplaying, and he wasn’t out of control. Dean could smell him better than anyone, and what he smelled was a man who needed to let off steam, not an overriding need to cause harm.

Had he needed to, Dean could’ve called for help surreptitiously by balling his fists with his thumb inside his fingers. He felt Mason back off even as the alpha manhandled him around bodily and sank into his hole. 

“Ow! Jesus Christ!” Dean shouted. The guy might not be out of control, but he was close. He pummeled Dean on his knees, gripping bruises into his hips and fucking him furiously. “Watch it!”

“Shut up!” he told Dean, and Dean bit his lip and gripped the flooring with his fingertips. Luckily, like a true blowhard, he didn’t stay around long. His appetite whetted, he only fucked Dean for about fifteen seconds before he lurched backward and stumbled to his feet to see what other mayhem he could bring to bear.

Dean rolled his eyes. He subtly signaled to Mason to make sure to keep that guy away from the Ozzie newbie, and Mason signaled back his agreement. Mason sic’d Tyler on him, and he took the bait like an idiot.

Unbelievable, thought Dean. Just like a Boxer at the dog park.

He scanned the room, rubbed his asshole, and turned back to let the next entrant in.

It was Craig, and Dean couldn’t have seen a more welcome face. 

“Hey!” Craig enthused. “Would you look at what the cat dragged in? I heard a rumor you were back.” Craig wasted no time in stretching right out on the floor and drawing Dean down with him. He rolled casually on top of Dean and kissed him languidly. “I saw that guy ahead of me in line. You okay?”

Dean chuckled and groped Craig’s ass. “I’ve had worse. You’ve seen me take worse.” The kisses were nice. Craig’s kisses had always been nice. They could both hear the obnoxious alpha whooping loudly as he stomped about throwing his weight around. The beta chuckled in muted disgust, shooting a look into the room.

“You know what this room needs is a full-on brat episode,” Craig mused. He fumbled up to his knees, and Dean went with him, knowing the dance Craig preferred. The beta-Sub sighed in pleasure as he pressed his cock into Dean’s ass, and Dean mimicked him when he bottomed out. They moved in tandem for several strokes, enjoying the simpatico of aligned designations. “How much do you wanna bet I can get him to blow his wad and have his sneakers laced back on in less than ten minutes?” he asked Dean quietly.

“Oh, dude, you’re on! Fifty bucks!” Dean told him in a hiss.

“HEY!” Mason called, advancing on them with menace. “Get your ass back to work! This isn’t your personal dream date!” It was Mason’s room to work, and he had the authority to keep the inflow of customers moving. But Craig was a little shit, and he slowly thrust back into Dean just right, pulling a filthy moan from the man and enticing Dean to drop his chest to the floor instead of moving on.

“Fuck, yeeeeaaahh,” he breathed in Dean’s ear, guaranteeing that Mason would take the provocation for what it was and deliver the response Craig wanted. He hauled Craig to his feet with a hand under his armpit and pulled Dean along on desperately pumping knees with a fist in his hair. He threw both of them side-by-side onto the middle bed, and he wasted no time turning Dean’s ass bright red with his bare hand.

Panting, he dragged Dean to his feet, met him eye to eye and asked, “Do you understand me now?”

“Yessir,” Dean told him honestly. He scuttled back to the door as Mason turned his attention to Craig.

“And don’t you dare rub your ass!” Mason called without slowing the strikes he was laying down on Craig’s upturned backside.

“Fuck,” Dean muttered, removing his hand. He glanced up at the lights above the door that showed how many customers they had in the room. There was still room for six more. After that, the door would remain closed until someone wore out and left. Some days the turnover was rapid. Some days the first ten through the door settled in for a long evening of debauchery. There was no time limit, and entry was based on an internet reservation system that was shuffled periodically to keep the regulars from learning how to game the system and to allow the fresh meat a chance to get through the door. Anyone left waiting in line at the end of the play room’s hours was offered a complimentary blow job and a special code that moved them a little closer to the front of the line for the next round. 

Dean was hard and uncomfortable as he settled back down onto his knees and opened the door once more. He let in another beta. He ignored the wristband, unconcerned if the guy was a Dom or a Sub. After waiting in line long enough that his own imagination wasn’t cutting it anymore, the dude was in real need of a fluffer. Dean happily swallowed him down to get him from half-hard to full mast and leaking. He risked a look upward through his lashes and found the man gazing adoringly down at him, his feminine face slack with disbelief at his good fortune.

Dean winked at him, released his cock, slapped his ass hard enough to sting a little, and sent him on into the room where Austin collected him assertively and led him deeper in. Dean took the moment to check on Craig and the douchebag. Craig was face down on the mattress, and the douchebag was pummeling into him no holds barred. Dean was going to lose his bet, thank God.

As the room filled with hard bodies, the musky scent of lust began to make Dean’s hair stand on end. Looking around the room, there was nothing delicate or subtle going on. There was no nuzzling, no caressing, no intimate strokes to draw out a shy smile. These were hard people taking hard hold of life at its most primal and putting their backs into it. Dean’s hand stopped millimeters from his own dick. He looked down and blew out a breath.

Michael’s rule about touching himself hadn’t been lifted, but Dean nearly forgot, consumed by the scent and years of conditioning in this room. He centered himself with a couple of careful breaths and one of Castiel’s meditation techniques. As he opened his eyes again, he heard the loudest shout announcing an orgasm he’d ever experienced. He winced. He wasn’t the only one. He didn’t have to look round to know where it had originated, and he didn’t need a clock to know Craig had beat his time limit.

Craig fist-bumped him on the D.L. as Mr. Obnoxious struggled to his feet and waved off anything else for the evening. “That’s the best fifty bucks I’ve ever spent,” Dean confided softly as he headed back to the door to let in the next man.

 

His hand trembled slightly as he cracked the door open a seventh time.

 

Dean put in a hard four hours labor on his knees. He replenished the lube in his ass from his stash by the door. He was fucked more times than he dared to keep track of, and he had at least as many cocks between his stretched wide lips. Most of the men spent little time with Dean, using him arbitrarily while they scoped the room and chose a gameplay out of the men who were inside. They all recognized him, and many of them welcomed him back enthusiastically, but they weren’t here to ogle the naked celebrity or boast a B.J. from him when they got home. They were here for a reason, and they needed to scene.

Dean wasn’t here for scening, he was just the fluffer. Now, granted, once the room was full, he was expected to make a few circuits offering his mouth, his fist, and his ass to anyone who needed a rev up, but his role was much like that of the warm wet folded wash cloths by the basin. He was tool for their use, not a Submissive for playing.

By the time he and Ryan hit the locker room, Dean was exhausted. Unlike Ryan though, Dean was still unfinished. Ryan tapped Dean’s butt in camaraderie, welcomed him back, and headed for the shower. He nodded gamely and said something suitably gracious as he waved Ryan on. Dean ignored the showers. He pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and trudged down the hall to Castiel’s office.

He poked his head in and found his husband squinting at his computer screen like an old man. He looked up when the door shifted, and his demeanor changed instantly.

“Come in. Close the door,” he said shortly.

“Am I in trouble?” Dean asked at the expression on Castiel’s face. He closed the door, but he didn’t move any closer. Cas’ eyes were red. Dean fidgeted.

“Come here.”

“Cas?”

Castiel cleared his throat.

“Sir?”

“Better.”

Dean stepped around the desk and hit his knees, looking up in confusion. Castiel glared down at him, nostrils flaring. Dean could sense his wolf engaging. 

“Sir, you gave me permission. I asked! You said I could!”

Cas held his eyes, clearly displeased. He tangled his fingers in Dean’s hair and tilted his Sub’s head backward harshly. Leaning down, he scented Dean’s throat, then his mouth. Dean watched him with growing consternation. Castiel’s eyes skittered everywhere over Dean’s kneeling frame, over his face. He sat back up, glaring.

“Sir?”

“Not here. Come with me.” Cas was out of his chair and stalking into his suite in a single breath, and Dean scurried to follow, stripping his shirt over his head even as he caught the door that Cas had allowed to swing in on him.

“Sir, you said I could! I don’t understand!” Dean tossed his shirt onto the kitchenette’s bar and attacked the drawstring to his sweats. Cas turned on his heel and glowered fiercely at him as Dean stumbled in pulling his sweats off. He bruised his knees when he hit the tile, and he panted harshly, looking up, reaching for his Dom. Cas coldly dodged his hand then snatched it and struck it hard across the knuckles. Dean jerked it back with a gasp. His eyes overflowed.

“You said…” he tried again.

“I said you had permission to do what you had to, Dean. I never told you to _wallow_ in it. You smell like Omega slick. Why would you need to come into contact with any Omega’s slick to keep the customers in that room hard? Explain yourself!”

Dean’s eyes danced across Castiel’s chest as he thought back. Omega slick? He didn’t… No. Wait. One of the alphas had strolled over for a quick rejuvenating dip after fucking that sweet Ozzie long enough that the others had begun whining for a turn. Dean shook his head and made the mistake of relaxing with relief.

“No, Sir, it’s all a mistake. It was just part of the job. It was on the alpha’s dick when he fucked me. It’s the lube he used. No one touched my penis. I swear to God. I didn’t fuck the Omega.” Dean risked a tentative smile to show there were no hard feelings. But Cas didn’t thaw. He continued to glare down at Dean judgmentally.

The Alpha’s jaw shifted with his irritation. He cocked his head. That was never a good sign, and Dean’s fingers went numb. “Put your forehead on the floor.”

“Sir, I didn’t! I swear.”

“Now!”

Dean leaned forward and raised his hips for inspection with his head to the cold tiles. His Dominant looked his ass over, running his hand across Dean’s backside, pulling a cheek outward to get a good look at his hole, puffy and used. Dean grimaced as the grip to his ass awakened the sting.

“You did your job to the best of your ability?”

“I did, Sir. I swear it!”

“Are you confused about what the job entails?”

“What?” Dean turned his head and looked up awkwardly beneath his arm. “No, Sir.”

“Then why would you have been spanked hard enough to leave abrasions?”

Dean folded into himself, his muscles going slack and his eyes rolling up in his head. He sighed heavily. 

“Answer me, Dean.”

“Sir, you remember Craig, my friend from before? He’s always been a regular in the play room, and he’s a brat…”

“He’s a brat and a customer. What does that have to do with you?”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean wheedled. He rolled sideways and sat up on his butt. “You know how that job goes. I needed to play into it. If it was just about fluffing we’d get a robot to do the job. It takes personality to make it work. I was _doing_ the damn job!”

“Put yourself back into position and stay there!” Cas was shaking with fury. “Your mate may not care that you throw yourself around like a cheap slut, but I won’t have it, Dean Michael, and unfortunately, what I say _goes!_ ”

Dean licked his lips and returned to his position with his forehead kissing the floor and his ass in the air. His mind scrambled feverishly. What was this all about? Sure, Dean had enjoyed himself and played it up. That was as much the job as keeping the stiffies stiff. It was a sales job, designed to ensure the customers came back again even if they’d waited for two hours before slipping through the door.

His Alpha’s hand slapping hard down on top of Mason’s marks caught him off guard, and he yelped and tucked his butt under. 

On top of Mason’s marks.

That was it.

It wasn’t Cas the Alpha who was offended.

It was his wolf.

And Cas meant to feed the wolf off the roasted flesh of Dean’s backside.

Cas spanked him again, and Dean sucked in a deep breath through his nose and forced himself to press his hips back out. It occurred to Dean as he grimaced through his punishment that the closed circuit feed from the play room was hardwired into Castiel’s office.

For security purposes.

Cas had watched the whole thing.

And Dean had absolutely reveled in the lust.

Shamelessly.

He was spanked long enough to elicit a trembling in his thighs. Dean never stopped being surprised by what the man could accomplish with his bare hand.

He heard the thwip sound as Castiel’s belt left his belt loops, and Dean whimpered. He put his hands beneath his forehead and rocked his face back and forth a bit. This was going to hurt.

“You had the gall to show up in my office reeking of alphas I don’t know, dredged in Omega slick, debauched and puffy and used and sore, and you expected me to bring you off, didn’t you?” Castiel’s voice was hard and cold. “Answer me!”

“YES, SIR!”

“You were tasked with a menial job, Dean. Fluffing customers does not require you to debase yourself. You were to mind the door and offer the clients an _hor d’œuvre._ You were not tasked with turning belly up and rolling in every puddle of filth you could find.”

Cas brought the belt down across Dean’s ass, and he earned a high whine. Dean trembled but held. Cas leaned over and shoved three fingers hard up his ass, drilling in and twisting his hand. Dean tensed up but held again. The pain was excruciating in a way only Cas could manage. He looked over his shoulder, huffing in pain. Cas curled his fingers and dragged a significant amount of sticky fluid out of his husband’s backside, smearing it grotesquely across Dean’s ass cheeks.

Dean’s huffing grew harsher. His ass was wet now. That made a big difference. 

“Sir, your belt! Please don’t… It’ll carry the scent!”

“Perhaps you should have considered that before you prostituted yourself!” Castiel answered coldly. “Had you behaved yourself, there would be very little scent but synthetic slick for me to harvest. This doesn’t smell like synthetic slick, Pet.”

“Sir, Please!!”

The belt crashed down, and the wetness magnified the sting, setting Dean to howling. Cas painted Dean’s ass, turning the redness left by two open palms into a mass of purpling bruises. Dean wept, hiccupping hard. He rolled his forehead back and forth across the damp tile. Back and forth.

Without warning, Castiel was bare and thrusting in. The intrusion was far harsher than what the douchey alpha with no manners had given him, but Dean didn’t protest. As Cas thrust in, pulled back and drove in again, Dean wept. He clenched his eyes and fists and held on.

He began to realize slowly that the pummeling had eased. Dean’s knees on the hard tile still ground hard into the ceramic, but the motion wasn’t an assault anymore. It was smooth and easy, more a slow caress. A muscled arm wrapped under Dean’s and lifted him up bodily to sit in his Top’s lap. Castiel kissed his temple and nuzzled into his hair. Slowly, Cas shuffled Dean’s weight until he could press upward and stand up with Dean still impaled on his cock with his arms underneath Dean’s thighs and pressing between his legs to support Dean’s chest. He leaned back a little and shuffled slowly to the couch where he eased himself onto an end and let Dean sprawl out over him. Dean spread his legs and supported his torso with an arm over the back of the couch. Cas found his positioning, hoisted Dean’s hips just an inch or two, and fucked up into him, grunting with each thrust. 

Dean moaned and got a foot planted on the floor to help hold his weight. He sat up, and leaned forward, bracing himself on Castiel’s knees and the back of the couch. He began to pant again and moan out with each hard slap of Castiel’s hips into his ass.

He chuckled at the absurdity. 

“We’re never gonna make it through that roleplay, Alpha,” he said over his shoulder. “You can’t keep a straight face.”

“Me?” He redoubled his efforts, sweating into the couch. “You’re … the one … … … who can’t keep a … straight … … _anything!_ ”

Dean burst out laughing. “Dude! You can’t just denigrate a guy’s orientation like that.”

“It’s not a … denigration. It’s … … simple truth.” Cas slowed to a stop, huffing hard. “Switch positions?”

“You’re the boss, Alpha. Where do you want me?”

“Bend over the back of the couch. Let me go from a standing position.”

“You getting too old to…?”

“Do _not_ finish that sentence, Winchester, or this won’t be a roleplay.” Cas shoved Dean to the end of the couch, ignoring his guffaws and clambered up. Dean followed him around the couch. The younger man spread his feet wide and doubled over the back of the couch. He reached back and spread his cheeks.

“Jesus, Dean. How many men fucked you tonight?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t count,” Dean sassed.

Cas spanked him hard, and Dean jumped, pressing his lips together and turning around to face the front.

“Better,” Cas approved. He moved in between Dean’s feet and pressed back into his ass, setting up an even rhythm, nothing exceptional, but one he could maintain for some time. “And it’s not that I can’t keep a straight face, my love. It’s that I keep getting overwhelmed once I’m inside you. It’s too hard to…”

“Too hard? Never too hard, baby.” Dean’s joke earned him a loss of his husband’s cock and another five hard swats.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean admitted through clenched teeth. “Too hard. You were right.”

“Why do I punish you Dean?” Cas asked him conversationally. He reinserted and picked up the pace a little.

“Huh?” Dean torqued his shoulders around and pressed up against the back of the couch with straight arms.

“The spankings, Dean. Why do I do that?”

“Because you love me.” Dean said it with stark certainty, like Cas had asked him to count to three.

“Because… Wait. What?” Castiel’s hips stuttered to a stop.

“Isn’t that right? You punish me because you cherish me, and you want the best from me, wanna give me the support I need to be my best? Isn’t that right?”

Cas laughed and shoved back in, making Dean grunt. “That IS right, my beloved. You’ve never answered me that way before. I’m enormously proud of you.”

Dean pressed his ass back into Castiel’s groin. “Does that mean I get to come?”

“Did you let someone spank you without my presence or approval?” Cas asked back rhetorically.

Dean sighed heavily and went boneless over the couch. “Yes,” he recited. “I let someone besides Michael or Sam have a crack at my ass. Really, man? You’re still on about that? Aren’t you ever gonna get over it?”

“Nnnngggghhhh,” Cas grunted loudly as he shoved hard into Dean’s body and lifted his feet right off the floor.

“Jesus! Guess not! Crimeny, man, put me down!”

“Am I ever going to get over feeling possessive of your ass? Did you seriously just ask me that?! Have you learned nothing?!”

“Damn, Cas. Sir! SIR!! I’m sorry! I get it! I fucked up! I’m sorry!”

Cas pressed in hard enough to keep Dean’s legs dangling and making him brace himself with both arms on the cushions of the couch while his face turned bright red. Cas released his wolf, and Dean had no defense against that. He shook like a rag doll as the wolf fucked him stupid. Drool cascaded from Dean’s mouth and left dark patch on the dark blue fabric.

Cas wrapped both arms around Dean’s torso and lifted him bodily, impaling him as he drove upward and froze, trembling with tension. He thrust in miniscule motions as he came, his knot throbbing but not pressed in.

Dean clutched his husband’s arms. He curled over them. 

“I love you, I love you, Goddamn, I love you,” chanted Dean, feeling Castiel curl his sweaty body down over him as well.

He was bushed. He reeked. His butt was swollen and bruised. His legs felt weak. His cock still hadn’t been allowed completion, but it began to fade with the exhaustion that consumed his entire body. Dean let his head loll when Cas scooped him up. He knew his backside was dribbling across the floor as Cas slipped from the tile to the carpeting and into the bedroom. Just another set of stains for the cleaning staff, in their expertise to make vanish as if they’d never been.

Dean didn’t care.

They showered quickly, Dean supporting himself against the wall as Cas cleaned him carefully.

“Your belt,” Dean mumbled.

Cas chuckled. “Actions have consequences, Winchester,” he chided.

“You’re going to keep it smelling like that?”

“I am.”

“Dude.”

“One of these days you’re going to realize I’m serious,” Cas told him as he cut off the flow of water and held the glass door open for his weary husband. “I don’t want anyone spanking you but me. I have made my peace with Michael and Sam, but you’re never going to get off easy when it’s something completely avoidable and it’s applied by anyone who isn’t pack.”

“So that wasn’t a roleplay?” Dean accepted a towel and eased his butt onto the countertop to dry himself off. The throb was preferable to his tired legs at this point.

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing we’d planned a scene that soothed my wolf. If we hadn’t, I suspect you would still have welts on your ass and new scents on my leather.”

“Hhmph.”

“Come on, Dean. We need to get home. Michael’s waiting, and he’s probably as anxious as I was.”

“Shit, man, you’re not gonna let him strap me too, are you?” Dean slid off the counter and eased the towel across his backside. He craned his neck to see the damage for himself in the mirror. “Holy crap! Look what you did to me.”

“Yes, I’m very proud of the colors this time,” Cas boasted. He trailed a hand over Dean’s spoiled flesh, and Dean shivered and broke out in chill bumps. “No, you’ve had enough for tonight, my brat. But Michael’s well within his rights to collect once you’re healed. That’s between you and him.”

“He’s not even supposed to stand up,” Dean pointed out. He followed Cas out of the restroom searching for his clothes. “How hard can he swing from a bedridden position?”

Cas chuckled. “I dare you to ask him that,” he said enthusiastically. “You might be surprised at his creativity.”

Dean ducked his head sheepishly. “Yeah, maybe I’ll keep that one to myself.” He pulled his shirt on and then tackled his sweats. Dean collected his keys and his wallet from the sideboard where he’d stashed them before his late shift. He’d promised to step into the role twice a week until schedules could be shifted to get someone permanently set up. It might be three weeks. Might be four. Dean would have to focus to keep the shift leader off his ass.

He thought he had sufficient motivation now for that. He wordlessly dangled his keys for Cas as they left the turnstile.

“You must really be hurting if you’re trusting me to drive your Baby.”

“Don’t get used to it,” He groused, limping to the passenger side.

“I’ll drive carefully, love. You relax. You’ll be home in bed soon.”

In the car, Dean shifted across to the center and leaned his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Cas kissed the top of his head and reminded him there was a center seatbelt. Dean began an undercurrent of grousing about having to sit on his sore ass and having to have retrofit his car with modern safety equipment. Cas smirked as he put the car in gear. He let Dean grumble.


	2. April 2, 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tempers run high when a scene plan steps over the line, and both parties have some legitimate points to make. Cas experiences something brand-new, and Dean has a request he put off much too long. And Sam and Sarah have found their stride in reaching across the species aisle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping up with my one-per-month posting. This was fun to write. I hope you like it.

 

April 2, 2018

 

Dean slammed the door behind him. Hard. Keys dangling from their pegs jingled in his wake. He fumed as he stormed straight through the kitchen and into the parlor before Michael had a chance to react to the door closed decisively in his face. Michael couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Dean this angry, and he was relieved to know he wasn’t the target of all that fire. That wasn’t going to make the next couple of days much easier though. One bruised apple had a way of upsetting the whole cart in a home where the psyches were this intertwined. 

What was more, Castiel’s Alpha Claim over his husband had yet to be put to much of a test. Thus far, happily floating in the afterglow of a fairytale wedding, a full month off the grid in France, and the first months of marriage, they’d all coasted blissfully in what felt like a stable structure cruising at _Warp 9_ into happily ever. Alex’s birth left them all groggy with lack of sleep, but ecstatic at the turn of the wheel that had set them up with strength of numbers and good will to spare.

As April approached her birthday and entered her last trimester, all eyes turned to cushioning her and catering to her, awaiting the fall of the other shoe, when the childcare skills they mastered over the last ten months would be put to the test with another three squalling infants in a house that had three little ones already.

Almost all eyes.

Michael knew better than to leave his mate neglected for too long. Even with a high-risk pregnancy in the household, Dean was still Dean, and he would always need a steady diet of attention. Fresh from a Heat/Rut cycle that proved Michael was fully healed from the ordeal of childbirth, Dean and Michael both wanted to celebrate in a way that was clear of the fog of Heats or Ruts. Unfortunately, what Michael viewed as one brainstorming idea of many, Dean had jumped on as the best idea since chilled pint glasses. Dean had his sights set on a public display that utterly defied his old block. His mind was made up, and he was all in, but for one snag.

Castiel said no.

Michael broke the news to his mate on their drive home from the grocery store on a Saturday morning errand run. 

Michael sighed at the closed door in front of him. He clung to the straps of his grocery bags with one hand and Alex’s car seat with the other, and he thumped his head into the door itself. It didn’t budge. He summoned Dean through his Mating-bond, exasperated at the petulance Dean was showing, but all he got in return was a metaphysical flip-off as Dean vaulted up the stairs to their bedroom.

Setting the car seat on the floor long enough to open the door, Michael maneuvered his way in. He unpacked the bags and pulled his son out of the carrier. He kept track of Dean’s location, but he let his mate simmer. He’d been a fool to think that taking the pup along with them would prove a controlling factor for Dean’s temper. At least he hadn’t erupted until he was clear of the pup.

And anyway, they had other ideas to play with. That hadn’t been the only option. And Michael hadn’t been surprised by the Alpha’s answer so much as he’d been taken aback by the confused hurt in Castiel’s eyes.

And now Dean’s anger.

Something was stirring between the alphas, and Michael wanted out from between them right the fuck now.

April waddled into the kitchen in a flowing maternity sundress that vaulted off the curve of her belly like a carnival tent. She took Alex from Michael and kissed the top of his head affectionately. Alex reached for her nose when she smiled down at him.

“What’s eating Dean?” she asked as she carried the pup into the parlor. She trusted Michael to follow, and she laid the pup out on a foldable changing table that was fast becoming a permanent fixture. Michael dug changing supplies out of the basket on the floor to save her from having to bend down.

“Shooting the messenger,” Michael replied vaguely. “I’d advise steering clear. I doubt he cares who gets hit right now.”

“Oh.” She met his eye, holding the pup in place with a hand on his belly. “That explains Cas.”

“Cas is moping too?”

“He went out jogging in the middle of the day,” she told Michael. “He’s upset. Wouldn’t tell me why.”

“Terrific,” Michael muttered.

“Hey,” April arrested his descent into mumbled discontent with a palm on his cheek, and he cocked his head. “Their pissy moods don’t have to carry us with them. Let’s let them work it out for themselves.”

Michael gave her a tight-lipped half smile and a kiss to her soft mouth. “I’ll stand clear as much as I can, Pete, but this involves me too. It’s about a scene Dean and I were planning. I’m afraid our grace period after the wedding is ending. It’s looking like the rubber’s finally meeting the road on that Claim they put down between them. I don’t know how it’s going to shake out if Alpha puts his foot down about something Dean really wants. The brat might kick up a tantrum that sucks me under with him.”

“What kind of scene?” April asked as she went back to work on the pup and blew a raspberry into his pudgy belly.

Michael snorted and turned his back to the wall, leaning into it. “He’s thrown out every inhibition that’s ever kept him caged inside private spaces, Pete. He’s like a college freshman cut loose from the apron strings for the first time in his life, and he’s ready to paint the town red. He has his heart set on a public exhibitionist scene at one of the Lupin nightclubs downtown. Wants a full-contact display right out there in the open in front of the general public.”

“That doesn’t sound like Dean,” April observed as she picked Alex up off the table and settled onto the sofa with him seated in her lap.

“It’s not the old Dean,” Michael confirmed. “But he’s embracing his exhibitionist kink now that he feels safer outside the house. And jumping into the deep end of the pool is very much like him. He’s not an ‘ease into it’ kind of guy.”

“Cas told him no? How come?”

Michael chuckled, settling down on the sofa next to her. “The public aspect is fine with Cas. He doesn’t have any issue with Dean getting his dirty on wherever he wants as long as it’s legal and he’s just showing off. But there’s more to the scene than that.”

 

***************************

 

Castiel never went running mid-day. It was muggy and hot. There was far too much traffic on the roads, and the sun was brutal in its intensity. He’d forgotten sunscreen. He’d forgotten a water bottle. He didn’t have a set of headphones on him.

Didn’t matter. He needed to think anyway, not get lost in Puccini or Ravel. When Michael had first presented the idea, Cas thought it signaled a magnificent breakthrough. Finally, Dean was feeling brave enough to try his hand at a vulnerability long out of his reach, and Cas knew Dean would find it liberating in a truly fundamental way. And then Michael finished talking and left Cas speechless. Surely, he couldn’t be saying what he seemed to be saying. But when Cas pressed for details, Michael confirmed it, and the entire world seemed to come to a screeching halt.

The Alpha hadn’t simply said no; he’d said _Hell No!_ And he’d stormed out of his own office, leaving Michael slack-jawed in dismay.

What was Dean thinking? Did the ring he wore mean nothing? Did his vows mean nothing? 

Castiel was distraught, to say the least, so he went running. The last thing his Pack needed was for him to lose his temper again. He couldn’t stay out long though. He’d left the house ill-prepared for a distance run, so he tumbled over the issues in his mind as rapidly as he could. He’d been out here for two hours.

Setting his hurt aside was impossible. He tried to untangle it from a scientific perspective, but he kept going back again and again to what amounted to a blindingly cavalier take on their marriage vows, and he couldn’t fathom how Dean could propose such a thing, much less imagine that Castiel would agree to it.

Cas could feel the house brooding as he walked up the gravel drive and slipped into the cool shade of the garage. Dean’s car was parked in its usual place. The man himself was inside. Cas could sense him. Too, he could sense that Dean was wallowing in fury, disappointment, self-righteous indignation, and core-level offense.

 _Dean_ was offended? Cas scoffed quietly to himself as he kicked off his running shoes and dunked his whole head under the spigot in the deep tub-sink on the wall. He shook his head out and pulled a towel out of the cabinet. The towels were meant to be used on the automobiles after a wash, but Cas didn’t particularly care. They were clean enough for his sweaty head.

Proper use of the appropriate linens was the least of his concerns at the moment.

He poured himself a tall glass of water. The kitchen was deserted. No one was in the parlor. The foyer was empty. Cas stretched out his awareness and found his mate relaxed and purring in her conservatory. Someone was kneading knuckles into her lower back as she knelt on something soft.

Michael, no doubt, had determined that she needed soothing from having borne the brunt of Cas’ temper a couple of hours ago. Cas skulked down the hall, still feeling as foul as he smelled. He stuck his head in the cavernous room. April was on her knees on the sofa, backward, leaning into crossed arms braced on the cushioned back. Michael had one knee up on the couch behind her and was massaging deeply into her sore back.

“I’m back,” he announced loud enough to carry. April lifted a hand in acknowledgment without turning her head or opening her eyes. “I’m going to grab a shower. Where’s Alex?”

Michael tipped his head around slightly. “Gabe’s got him down for a nap in his room. Take your time, Alpha. We’ve got the pup. You have time to… You know. Before we need you back. You’ve got time.”

“Where is he?”

“Dean’s upstairs, sir. He’s waiting for you.”

Cas could feel his husband practically pacing with impatience. “Thank you, Michael.”

“Sir?” Michael stopped him with a worried tone. “Look, it was all my idea really. You get that, right? If you’re mad at anyone, it should be me.” The Omega kept one hand kneading into April’s back, but he rotated his body to perch on the edge of the couch. April peeked around too.

“I’m not angry so much as I’m baffled and I’m hurt that either of you would believe this would be okay with me,” Cas explained. “And the truth is that whoever came up with the idea, Dean is the one I married, and it is he who owes me his fidelity. That he not only went along with the idea, but is obviously crushed not to have been allowed to see it through, is the fundamental issue we need to set straight. That’s between me and him, Michael, not you. I appreciate your taking Alex for a bit while we talk it out. We may be awhile.” He turned to go but paused in the doorway. “Thank you for staying with April, Michael. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“It’s not an inconvenience, Alpha,” Michael mumbled back. He refocused on working the stiffness out of the Ozzie’s lower back.

In the months since the wedding, April’s fledgling relationship with Michael had stalled. They were an established couple, as far as such a label could go under the circumstances, but they weren’t forging any new steps forward. Michael felt more like a babysitter than a boyfriend, and April seemed content to allow things to settle comfortably. It had become commonly accepted that all the spare moments when Dean was holed up behind closed doors with Cas were free moments for April to spend with Michael. They were sleeping together. They talked and comforted each other. They worked seamlessly to care for Alex and the twins when Sam and Jess needed help.

But something was missing.

He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. Was it the lack of any kind of bond link? 

It wasn’t the first time Michael wondered that. But he didn’t have a legitimate basis for placing a claim on her. He wanted it just to be there. He didn’t want to have to set it.

“Sweetheart, are you all right?” April asked over her shoulder. Michael pursed his lips and set his hand to moving again where it had lodged into stillness. For all that they shared, he still couldn’t feel her in his head or his gut. At all.

“ ‘M fine, Pete. How is this? Hard enough? Where does it hurt?”

 

********************

 

Castiel found him sprawled naked on the master bed, his face set in a scowl, and one foot pulsing to a beat inside his head. His eyes were open and staring at the ceiling. He was waiting, and he was all brat. Cas huffed a disbelieving irritated huff at the blatant attempt to manipulate him and strode on through without speaking. He stripped his soaked t-shirt over his head as he walked, flashing a breathtaking view of the musculature of his shoulders and back. He didn’t care whether it was turn-about or not.

“Hey!” Dean called.

“I need a shower,” Cas answered without stopping.

“Fuck the shower, Alpha. I’ve been waiting for an hour to talk to you.”

“You can wait ten more minutes, then. And put a robe on.”

“Why?” Dean asked, tripping into the bathroom on Cas’ heels and catching the door jamb with his hand to spin him around the corner. “I’m gonna end up bare anyway.”

Cas spun and met him eye to eye, their noses no more than an inch away from each other. The tension was palpable. “Don’t be presumptuous. Go back to the bed and wait for me there. Get dressed. We’re not going to have this discussion in the nude. Arguments to the contrary at this point are unwelcome, Dean Michael.”

Dean’s eyes glittered and danced, catching Castiel’s and turning swiftly to red. “You’re mad at _me?_ What the fuck, Cas?”

“Now, Dean.” 

Castiel’s eyes remained unfathomably blue. Dean set his jaw. He backed out of the bathroom without turning and without breaking eye contact. His gaze was frosty, but he obeyed.

Cas showered quickly but without rushing. He dressed in a neat pair of tan slacks and a starched white button-up with a collar. He rounded the corner to find Dean sitting on the side of the bed barefoot in nothing but a pair of old jeans. His knees were spread wide, and his hands pressed into the bed to either side. He was tension in every line. He looked up as his husband appeared. Castiel offered him no warmth. He offered no words either. He stood gazing the length of the room with his eyes blazing arctic ice.

“So, you got your panties in a wad, and it’s my fault?” Dean accused. “All you had to do was say yes or no, man. It didn’t require a temper tantrum. And now I’m getting the silent treatment. Great. That’s just great, Cas. You know what? Fuck this. Come find me when you’re ready to apologize, and then we’ll talk.”

Dean stormed out. He slammed the door behind him, and Cas ground his jaw in frustration. He followed at a predatory pace, relentless and focused. He found Dean sitting cross-legged on the floor in the gameroom with Mario Kart booting up on the screen before him. He clicked through the preliminary options without pausing to read them and started up a one-player race.

“Turn the game off, Dean. We need to discuss this.”

“Fuck you, Castiel. I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t appreciate the inquisition-face. I resent being set up as the bad guy here. You got your alone time. Piss off and give me mine.”

“You had plenty of alone time,” Cas pointed out coldly. “You chose to use it to set yourself up as a sacrifice to my Tertiary and attempt to shimmy out of having to talk at all.”

“I’m not the one who owes an explanation here,” Dean told him without looking away from his game. His hands and fingers moved on autopilot. “You’re being a dick! So, waltz on out of here and come back when you’re ready to…”

“NO, Dean! Turn it off. Now.”

“Fucking tyrant!”

Cas’ jaw twitched again, but he stood aside and allowed Dean to pass him into the hallway. Dean was pulling out all the stops to provoke a Tertiary response, but Cas was resolute. There would be time for that later. The game continued to play its merry tune in the background. Dean rounded on his husband before he’d gone half a dozen steps.

“You know what this is? This is you feeling guilty for not trusting me. Don’t go putting that on me, man.”

“No, Dean. We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“We’re not doing it this way. We’re not going to stand here and fling provocations at each other. If you’re angry, you can act like an adult and tell me so. I don’t deserve to have you swear at me and call me names.”

“ _IF_ I’m angry? What do you think, Alpha? Yeah, I’m angry! It was just a question, man. Yes or no question! But you’re obviously not interested in whatever I say, so let’s get it over with.” Dean unbuttoned his jeans and began to push them down.

“No, Dean. I meant it. We’re not doing it this way.”

“Why not? Squeamish all of a sudden?”

“Dean.”

“WHAT?!”

“I need you to stop shouting and talk to me.”

Dean pressed up into Cas’ space with a finger in his face. “You don’t get to pretend to be the rational one, man. You started this. There was nothing rational about calling me a fucking cheater, Alpha. You told Michael it was infidelity. Infidelity, Castiel? Are you kidding me? I would _never_ cheat on you! Never. And you know it!”

“Calm down, Dean. You’re attempting to provoke a response, and I’m not ready for that. We’re going to talk it out as Primaries first.”

“Oh, we are. We’re going to talk first. First? Before what? Before you flay me for infidelity? I didn’t fucking cheat on you, C.J.”

“I’m aware of that, but we’re still not addressing our Secondaries or Tertiaries until we’ve settled our Primaries.”

“What?! Says who?”

“Says me, Dean. It’s my decision, and I expect you to comply. Let’s go talk.” Cas took a couple of steps back toward the master suite, but Dean planted his heels and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What’s wrong with right here? I thought you wanted me to try making things a little more public.”

“You’re being very disrespectful right now, Dean. I’m being exceedingly patient, but my patience is wearing thin. Stop it and come with me. Right now.”

“I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“I’m not _going_ to cheat on you.”

“But you _were_ planning to,” Cas countered.

“What?!”

Cas tilted his head in confusion, his brow furrowed tightly. “How is this a point of contention? Are we arguing the definition of infidelity? You proposed prepping your backside with Michael’s slick and offering yourself to the general public in a dive bar. A _dive bar,_ Dean! Total strangers! I know there’s nothing wrong with your memory, so I’ll remind you what happened the last time you pulled that stunt. And I’ll remind you that in the interim, you’ve vowed your troth to me. I’m confused how _I’m_ the bad guy here!”

“This is nothing like that time, Cas. This is… It’s different!”

“Perhaps it is, but the fact remains, you intended to let strangers fuck you. Now, correct me if I’m wrong. I’m not an expert on marriage. Most people would consider that adultery.” Cas’ eyes glinted red for a moment before he buried the impulse. He knew his hurt was nakedly obvious.

“Yeah, well, we’re not most people, in case you hadn’t noticed. I never occurred to me that you were planning to try your hand at monogamy. Is that what this is? C’mon, man, just the thought is absurd. Or is that rule just for me? Why don’t you enlighten me, Cas, cause I’m fuckin’ lost. What exactly is it you’re pissed about? You drooled yourself dehydrated over my gangbang scene last fall. What’s the difference?” Dean stepped forward again, desperate to understand. He knew Cas was hurt, but he couldn’t fathom why.

“Strangers, Dean. Total. Strangers.”

“And _that’s_ what makes it adultery?” Dean said softly, stunned.

“Michael’s good, but he’s got blind spots around you, AND he’s Omega. He can’t protect you in an environment like that. He can’t control strangers who may or may not follow standard safety precautions.” The furrow was back in Cas’ forehead.

“So, it’s about my safety,” Dean concluded with a furrowed brow of his own. “Not seeing how that translates to infidelity.”

“Dean, I don’t want strangers touching you. And after our wedding, I thought it was something I never had to worry about again. I can’t abide people from the general public touching you. That can’t be a surprise.”

“I thought we were talking from our Primaries, man. That sounded pretty fucking Tertiary to me. Secondary, maybe. Something you need to tell me? Is your Primary a possessive controlling tyrant too?”

“Was the Claim I placed on you too vague for you to understand?” Cas asked darkly.

“No, Cas. Message received, goddamnit,” Dean told him in clipped tones. “That’s why Michael took it to you before we set it in motion. There was never a question of going through with it if you weren’t onboard. It’s not fucking adultery if you ask the spouse’s permission! Adultery is when you go sneaking around behind your husband’s back giving away your heart along with your body. Cheating is what you call it when you take the intimacy you promised to the man you love and you give it to someone else. I wasn’t sneaking around, man! I fucking _asked_ you to sign off! There’s nothing intimate about grinding it out with a couple of drunk horny strangers in a bar, C.J.!”

“Then why did it feel like the floor dropped out from under me when Michael told me what you wanted to do?” Cas asked on a huff. “Tertiary sex doesn’t feel like this, Dean. I felt gutted! How could you think that I would smile and nod at total strangers sinking their putrid dicks into you? We don’t know anything about these people! They could have God only knows what diseases! They could _hurt_ you! God, Dean! Jesus Christ! What’s it going to take to get through to you?!”

“But the folks up at The Facility are just fine. Got it. So, it’s all about who you own versus who you don’t, eh, Alpha? All those _’employees’_ you pay salaries to are different because your wolf thinks they’re Pack. The play room is fine because you control the environment and the access. This isn’t about who’s a stranger and who’s vetted; who’s safe versus who’s got gonorrhea. It’s about how you still don’t trust me. It’s about needing to control everything that happens to me and being able to convince yourself that every hand that touches my ass is a proxy for yours! You’re good as long as I play in the home sandbox because you _own_ the people and the sandbox, both!”

“I trust you, Dean, but I also know you when you sink into a Sub mindset. You _want_ things to get a little dangerous. You thrive on the thrill of pushing limits and scaring yourself. You don’t get to do that in an uncontrolled environment where the dangers are _real!_ ”

“That’s what Michael’s there for, man. He’s not gonna let anyone touch me who’s got a dangerous headspace going on.”

“I already said no, Dean. This discussion isn’t a reopening of negotiations. I realize that we never formally set boundaries around what was and what wasn’t permissible sexual conduct outside of our foursome, but you can’t have been surprised at my response. Dean, seriously?”

“Yes, Cas! Seriously! Hell, I thought you’d be proud of me! You know how hard it was for me to come this far? Do you have any idea how many insecurities I had to overcome before I was prepared to admit that the idea of splaying myself over a pool table with a blindfold on gets me hot as hell, and I wanna try it so bad. Think about it, man!”

“I AM thinking about it, Dean, that’s half the problem! My wolf is digging at the edges of his cave in fury right now!”

“Yeah, well, that’s his problem, not mine.”

“No, Dean. Unfortunately for you, you put me in charge, and that makes it your problem too. Now, while I appreciate that the source of this plan is a personal growth that you’ve struggled to achieve, I must insist that we find another way for you to express that growth. Strangers are off limits, and that’s final.”

“What about renting out Zeke’s place for an evening?” Dean suggested with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. Disappointment still topped acceptance in his scent, but he’d evidently decided not to attempt a coup, and Castiel felt his wolf settle. “It’s not quite the same thing, but we could keep the blindfold. Fill the joint with whoever you wanted to, and don’t let me know who’s who.”

Cas sighed tiredly. “Yes, I can approve that. It won’t be cheap though. I’ll want trained contractors I know and trust.”

Dean’s eyes went blank and his face fell slack, emotionless.

“Dean, I know you’re disappointed…”

“I would never cheat on you, Castiel,” he said without lifting his eyes. “Maybe next time you feel gutted like that you can come ask me about it before you go flinging accusations in front of Michael. Maybe you can learn to trust me more than you do those goddamned voices in your head that lie to you about my intentions. I. Will. Never. Break faith. With the vows I made to you, Castiel James. You hear me? Never.” Dean looked up and into Castiel’s stunned eyes. Cas looked stricken.

He didn’t have an answer to the truth in Dean’s eyes, but Dean saved him from having to respond.

“Now, maybe I was a bit inconsiderate about making a plan like this without passing it by you in the early stages. Maybe I shoulda known better. Maybe I was only thinking about myself here. But you’re right that we never set the boundaries, so you have no call to go around throwing shit at me like I broke your rules.” Dean paused as if he was at a loss for words, but a fierce scrubbing at his eyes told a different story. His words when he next spoke were stuffy and he hadn’t cleared the tears entirely from his eyes. “How could you, man? How could you think I would do that to you? After everything we’ve been through…how _could_ you?”

Castiel broke. The stubborn Primary stance was no match for Dean’s indignation.

“Dean, I’m sorry. Come here, baby.” Cas held his arms out, and Dean dove into them. The Alpha kissed his temple and embraced him tightly. “I never really thought that’s what you were doing. You have to know that. But it hurt that after everything, you still don’t take into account how desperate it makes me when you suggest allowing people we don’t know to touch you. Baby, I know it’s a weakness, but I’m begging you to understand. It’s never going to go away. It’s as much a part of my Alpha as it is the wolf.”

“This discussion would have been way easier to get through if you’d let us do it through our wolves, sir,” Dean mumbled.

Cas chuckled. “We can’t always take the easy way out, love. We both needed to be heard, not just me. If we’d let our wolves take it, you wouldn’t have had a chance to speak your piece. My wolf would have come in heavy-handed and forced you to roll and apologize, and I never would have understood. I set you up to fail by not covering this months ago. I assumed you knew where our roleplays ended and my genuine incapacity to share you picked up. Dean, baby, God, that’s never really been a roleplay. You’re right that I need to feel in control of who touches you. I’m praying you can live with that, because I can’t change it.”

Dean chuckled wetly. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I can live with it.”

“Of course, we do still need to address the degree of disrespect you presented me with just now.”

“Uh, disrespect?”

“You stormed away from me while we were talking, slammed a door in my face, booted up a video game when I tried to initiate a discussion, swore at me. Need I go on?”

“At least I didn’t accuse you of infidelity.”

“Dean, I never accused you of cheating on me. I told Michael that a scene such as the two of you planned would be tantamount to infidelity if you went through with it over my objections.”

“So, you agree that I didn’t do anything wrong?” Dean posed with his face still buried in Castiel’s shoulder. He turned his head to address Cas’ clavicle. “We put a plan together, and then we brought it to you for approval. I didn’t disobey you. That would’ve been rule number one.”

“ _Pack Rule_ number one, you mean,” Cas clarified as he began walking his husband down the hall toward their room. “I assume you’re speaking about the Pack rules, not your personal rules.”

Dean ignored him and continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I didn’t do anything unsafe, so I didn’t break rule number two. Talking about it isn’t doing it.” He glanced up at Cas’ face and waited for a stiff nod of agreement. He went on. “I showed you the respect you’re due by giving you the chance to weigh in before we started putting anything in motion, and I swear I was gonna abide by the answer you gave us no matter what it was. I didn’t break rule number three.”

“Dean, this is silly. I’m not alleging you broke any pack rules.” Cas found Sarah standing at the top of the stairs as he rounded the corner. She had her digital recorder in her hand and a deer in the headlights look on her face. He nodded politely at her.

“Sir…” she faltered. “You were shouting in the hallway. I couldn’t ignore it…”

Dean sniffled and stood upright at her voice, pulling out of Cas’ embrace. Cas let him go. Dean sighed and took another swipe at his eyes. He glanced at Sarah, but he turned back to face Castiel.

“I’ll wait for you in our room, Sir.” The capital letter on the honorific was audible. Dean slipped away gracefully, fully ensconced in his wolf. 

Sarah watched the door click softly shut behind him. “If he didn’t break one of the rules, what basis are you going to use to punish him?”

Cas raised his brow. “You’re certain I’m planning to punish him?”

She licked her lips and lowered her eyes. “Yes.”

He chuckled. “Very good. You’re learning fast, and your body language is a lovely mimicry of a submissive response to an upset Top. Is that intentional?”

“Sir, please. The punishment. Is this one that is intended to help him out of a Sub headspace, or is it really a punishment in the classic sense?”

Cas glanced at the closed door. “He’s not stuck in a Sub headspace. His scene plan would have landed him in a world of trouble if he’d seen it through without speaking to me first, but he did speak to me first – or, well, Michael did. They sought approval before they did anything. That fact combined with the fact that Dean and I never discussed the parameters of where we draw the lines for infidelity means that he’s correct. He and Michael broke no rules in reference to that misbegotten scene.”

“But…” she prodded helpfully.

“But, he threw a temper tantrum before calming down sufficiently to discuss it with me, and I cannot ignore that.”

“So the punishment is only for slamming doors and calling you a tyrant? There’s no consequences for planning to have sex with randos in a bar?” Disbelief was heavy in her tone.

“I may not have liked it,” Cas told her. “But he didn’t break any rules.”

“What about your marriage vows?” she asked in dismay. “Doesn’t his plan break those?”

“Not inherently.” Cas led her to a bench a little way down the hall and sat down with her. “Lupins are not built for monogamy, Sarah. Even those of us who marry are not often tasked with holding ourselves apart from all sexual contact with others. There are too many extenuating circumstances in our daily lives such as the need to manage our societal standing through C.F.s and the like.”

“But outside of hierarchical sex, wouldn’t it make sense for married wolves to practice monogamy for the same reasons apes do?” Sarah asked. “…to protect each other from sexually transmitted diseases if nothing else.”

“Perhaps,” Cas mused as if the idea had never occurred to him. “But then we would miss out on so many delicious experiences. Sarah, we’re really not built for that.”

She shook her head. “Mates are generally monogamous with each other. The Mating-bond drives two wolves to be true to each other and to seek the wellbeing, comfort, trust, and happiness of the other.”

“I beg to differ. While the latter points are true – mates don’t practice routine infidelity – many mates play together in wider circles. Many who Mated without a TM Trigger seek contract assistance to feed a need their mate isn’t equipped to provide. Many offer their own services to pack members who need something they can’t do for themselves. Think of a mature pack, Sarah, not a fledgling one like this one. We have no adolescents yet. But what will we look like in twelve years when our pups begin to Present a Secondary designation? Who do you suspect will assist the pups through early cycles before they reach full maturity? I’m not going to answer that for you right now. I want you to think about it. Adolescents – wolves older than 11 but younger than 16 – are too young for mutual sex, but they require…something. If every adult wolf in the Pack is Mated, can any of us help the youth at all?”

Sarah made an exasperated face. “You’re changing the subject. Let’s talk about that another time. Right now, just tell me…How do you define infidelity in your marriage?”

“Badly, apparently,” Cas said as he swept a hand through his damp hair and glanced across the hall at his bedroom door. “Look, it’s much more about open communication and mutually agreed contact than it is about whether either of us touches someone outside this Pack. Having any kind of an affair in secret would break faith. Plowing through with an affair that isn’t secret but that one of us had clearly expressed was distasteful would likewise be off limits. Where Dean and I will ultimately fall along the continuum is, I gather, still evolving.” Cas released an agonizingly slow breath. He glanced at Sarah and huffed a soft chuckle at his own expense.

“I’d love to tell you that I’m enlightened enough to trust him implicitly and that I can be comfortable agreeing to anything he wants to do that might bring him joy, but that’s not me, my dear. I struggle daily with accepting even Michael in his circle of intimates. Even still. At heart, I am still a dragon hoarding my treasure in a locked cavern, and I don’t want to share anything with anyone, especially not Dean. He deserves better though. He deserves better than to be secreted away in a cold and lonely cave. He deserves to live in the light and the full capacity of our species to experience joy and connection. I can’t bring myself to allow all that he wants and deserves. We have to find a middle ground that we can both live with.”

Sarah nodded solemnly. “Sir, may I ask you a personal question?”

He chuckled again. “Of course.”

“All those years that Dean was your scene partner, before April and Michael came along. You never pressured him to explore his need for sexual privacy during your time together, right? You left his insecurities alone, and you kept his secrets. You never tried to change him.”

“No,” Cas confirmed. “His insecurities fit my need to build a hoard.”

Sarah’s mouth fell open a little, taken aback. “I…uh…I guess that’s what I was getting at,” she admitted. “From the outside, it looks like you were honoring his space, accepting him for who he was, and maybe, not taking more than was yours to take…”

Cas let the back of his head rest against the wall. He closed his eyes. He sucked a long breath in through his nose. “It looked like that,” he agreed with his eyes closed. “And I long congratulated myself that my actions were noble in their origins. But the truth is that Dean was my prize possession, and I didn’t want to share him with anyone.”

“Sir? I don’t think that makes you a bad person. You know? I think it makes you human.”

Cas laughed. He lifted his head and looked at her. “Thank you, Sarah. That’s a lovely sentiment.” He paused a moment. “What I wouldn’t have given back then to have been allowed to show him off though. A dragon’s hoard is meaningless if no one knows it exists.”

It was Sarah’s turn to laugh. “Oh, I can only imagine.”

“Stick around,” he suggested as he stood up and offered her a hand. “You may yet get the chance to witness the real thing. It’s not a fantasy I’ve given up on, although it’s beginning to look like we’ll have to experience it vicariously through Michael.”

“You’re really going to allow him to do the scene as long as you get to pick the participants?” Sarah took his hand and let him pull her up.

“Oh, no, I think this one is dead in the water. I spoiled it for them both. They’ll have a bad taste in their mouths about the idea of a bar scene now. I have another idea. Not so very different. One that won’t make my skin crawl or make Dean feel like he’s settling for second best.”

“You’re not going to tell me what it is though, are you?”

“Nope. Not yet. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go punish my husband. I assume you’re having dinner with Fred and David tonight?”

“Yes, sir. Third Saturday of every month.”

“Good. I’ll have Dean bake a cobbler to send along.”

“That would be very welcome. David loves Dean’s baking.”

Cas chuckled cheerfully and ambled slowly across the hall. “Go write your notes up before you forget anything. List out any questions you still have.” He took hold of the doorknob and looked back over his shoulder. “You’ll be here for April’s birthday dinner on Tuesday, won’t you?”

“Oh. I had planned to spend Tuesday evening in the library.”

“Adjust your plans, please, Sarah. I expect you to attend. Birthdays are special in this Pack.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.”

He pushed the door open and left Sarah in the hallway. Dean was naked again, kneeling in the middle of the room with his calm eyes facing the door. As Cas entered, the green of Dean’s eyes struck him as radiant. They connected immediately, flashing their double-bond to a brilliant life of its own.

Cas closed the door.

“Feet on the floor. Bend over the bed. Hands out above you.”

The Alpha waited for his Sub to place himself. “Spread your feet wider, Dean.”

He took a deep breath. The beauty of his husband’s body would never get old.

“I’m exceedingly displeased with your behavior, Submissive. You _do NOT_ speak to me in that tone of voice.” He began to walk slowly closer. “You do _NOT_ walk away from me while we are talking. You do NOT slam doors in my face. You do NOT call me names. Not ever. There is no excuse. I don’t care how angry you were, and I don’t care that your anger is justified. Your feelings will never be ignored, but there is a respectful way to communicate them and a disrespectful way to communicate them. What’s more, you attempted to control me before we had an opportunity to discuss our concerns at all. Don’t think I missed that, my brat.”

Cas stepped up to Dean’s left side, pulled his hand back, grimaced, and struck his husband hard on the crease of his ass. Dean’s shoulders tightened, and his fists closed up. Cas swatted him again, leaving a hot pink handprint on his backside.

“You’re not the one in charge, Dean.” He spanked him again, overlapping the slaps to heighten the burn. “If you want something from me, you ask for it.” He kept his pace agonizingly steady and his strikes hard and hot, unforgiving. “You thought you could wheedle your way through having to face this issue like adults by sparking my wolf and riding the pain into absolution…” Cas didn’t let up as he talked. He knew Dean could hear him over the rush of his own pounding heart in his ears. Castiel’s hand felt warm. It stung.

Good.

He moved his strike zone up and to the right, appreciating the change of color that followed his hand. 

“…But that wouldn’t have solved anything, would it?”

“NoSir!”

“It would have left you feeling smug that you’d won a hand, but it would have left us right back where we started in terms of defining the boundaries of our marriage.” Castiel’s hand was beginning to burn. “So, we’re doing it my way, not yours. You wanted a spanking? Fine. You got one.”

He picked up the pace and the intensity and watched Dean’s muscles tighten up in response. He could feel Dean’s breathing shift into shallow panting.

“But we do it on MY terms, Dean Michael, not yours.”

Cas paused the monologue for several minutes and applied himself to his work. His brow broke out in a sweat, and his hand ached. His Claim-bond sang with sensation and emotion, and he fed everything he was feeling right back into it. He could feel Dean shift in his head, from mild acceptance into full remorse. It was a far deeper view than Castiel used to have, and he gloried in the difference. The way he was feeling, he might never stop slapping his husband’s ass. Everything about it felt hot and needy and fever pitched.

Dean moaned.

He buried his face in the bedding.

His thigh quivered.

The sensations began to echo between them, a harmonic of pain and heat and need, and it felt like being swept up into a vortex that circled faster and faster, higher and higher, the intensity swirling through both of their heads until it felt like it would crest around them and explode.

Cas fumbled with the button on his slacks, using his left hand so he didn’t have to stop spanking Dean’s upturned ass. He made a grotesque dance out of shoving his pants down, ripping his own boxers in his haste.

“Dean, reach for the drawer. Get me the lube! Now!”

“Uh…yeah. Yessir.” Dean scrabbled up the bed on his hands and knees as Cas used the moment to kick his pants off his bare feet. Dean dug frantically through the bedside drawer and then shoved himself back into place without ever looking around. He presented the bottle to Cas with both of his hands behind his back. Cas could feel Dean’s arousal through his pain.

He slowed way down. He set his feet next to Dean’s on the floor, just inside them, pressing the lines of his legs against Dean’s all the way up and then leaning over him and pressing his body into the bed.

The vortex slowed, but it didn’t cease. It pulsed all around the two of them. Cas felt like he stood within its eye, a calm, sure stillness enveloping him even as his hair stood on end and danced in the swirling winds.

“Don’t move, Pet. Stay right where you are. I’m not through with you yet.”

“Yessir.”

Cas could hear, see, and feel Dean panting. Dean’s rhythm seemed to define everything, the pace, the intensity, the heat of their need, and Castiel gritted his teeth to wrest it back from him. Cas focused on his own breathing, on his own pace, and he fed his rhythm through the Claim-bonds until he saw the rise and fall of Dean’s back shift to something slower and deeper.

“Good boy,” he breathed.

Cas slicked up his cock, a matter of only a moment, and he used what was left on his hand to press a little slick into Dean’s body, rotating his thumb inside his husband just enough to tease and to ease the way. Dean’s breath hitched. Cas removed his thumb and slapped Dean’s ass hard. He held Dean’s hip with his left hand and spanked him furiously with his right, leaving streaks of slick behind and cleaning his hand of all but a trace layer of lube behind.

Dean moaned again, louder this time.

He didn’t beg though.

Cas shifted without warning, clutched both hips in his strong grip, aimed carefully with his chin canted sharply down, and pressed forward slowly. He felt the head of his cock breach the tight ring of muscle with an easy pop, and he shivered at the sensation. Dean shivered with him.

Cas pressed forward very slowly. He could feel the burn of the stretch and the heat of Dean’s backside. He could feel Dean’s face tighten up into a pained grimace, and he slowed to a stop while his husband breathed through the ache.

“I’m good, Sir.”

“No, you’re not. Give it a minute. Breathe, Dean. Relax.” Cas sent both hands roaming over Dean’s back, over his shoulders, across his Mating-scar and the pristine expanse of flesh where Castiel’s scar would have lodged if he had the power to leave one. He passed hands through Dean’s hair, over the back of his neck, pausing to leave a brief squeeze, over the front of his throat with the same pause and the same brief squeeze, out to each bicep. He wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrists and pulled both arms back into place at the small of Dean’s back, crossing them and taking hold with one hand. He braced himself with his toes digging into the plush carpet, and he pressed forward slightly with his hips again, sinking deeper, feeding the vortex in his head. Dean’s body stiffened, and Cas squeezed his wrists and stopped his hips where they were.

“Sir, Please!”

“What do you want, Pet?”

“Need to come!”

“Mm-mm. Not during a punishment, Dean.”

“Crap, Sir, Please!”

“Shh. Relax. Feel it through me. You feel that?”

Cas pressed in slowly again. Dean quivered and moaned. 

“Yeah,” he breathed.

They’d had the wider bond-link since the wedding, and they were still discovering how far they could stretch its capacity. It was wide open at the moment from both sides. Dean panted, reaching through his Claim over Cas, searching for a fulfilling touch.

“Good boy,” Cas whispered again.

“Can you feel it?” Dean asked softly.

“I can feel it, baby,” Cas answered. He pulled his hips back just a little and then pressed them slowly forward, making it sweet, making it sing. He pushed in right up to the point where the burn intensified, and then he pulled out nearly to the tip.

Dean quivered. The vortex began to spin in their heads again, picking up speed and power with each press of his hips, driving into a tempest on the cyclical rhythm of sweat and bare skin and clutching fingers.

The Alpha finally pressed in deeply enough to graze Dean’s prostate, and the Sub whimpered, writhing in Castiel’s hold.

“Easy, Pet. Feel it. Don’t come. I’ve got you.”

“Alpha, God!”

“Sshh,” Cas leaned low and kissed the pointed tip of Dean’s ear. He circled his hips, slowly at first, picking up the pace as he rotated, pressing in deeper on each pass. Dean was in pain, and it was glorious, and Cas could see and feel it from the inside. He could ride the same wave Dean did, ride it into blazing euphoria. It was breathtaking.

His Mating-bond didn’t work like this. He could feel what his mate felt, but there was always a sliver of a diaphragm between them. He could sense her sensations, but he couldn’t feel it through her mind, already interpreted in the way she experienced it. With Dean, it all came to him _after_ Dean’s mind processed it, and that made it intoxicatingly powerful. He pressed in deeper, turning his motion into a hard, slow thrust of unstoppable momentum, even at a glacier’s pace. He was inertia, and he had the mass of the entire universe behind him. Dean panted hard beneath him.

His rim stretched elastic, going hot and white at the edges if anyone cared to look.

“I’m gonna come,” Dean warned.

“No, you’re not.”

“Alpha, I can’t hold it…”

“Shh. Relax for me Pet. Trust me.”

Cas froze with the bulk of his knot pressing hard against the outside of Dean’s rim. He shifted his head until he could grip Dean’s left shoulder between his teeth, and Dean groaned. 

“Sir, if you bite me, I’ll come. I’m warning you. It’ll be on your head if it happens.”

Cas chuckled, releasing his shoulder and kissing the spot. “Sshh. No talking now. Relax.”

Cas was pressed into Dean’s crossed wrists. He kissed his way down Dean’s back as he righted himself back up onto his feet. He centered his breathing. He looked downward at their joined bodies. The sight was orgasmic in its own right. Cas wondered if a black and white photo of this exact view, framed above his bed, would be a step too far into hedonism. He wondered the strangest things in this moment of suspense.

Slowly, he pulled all the way out, stepping to the left, watching the string of slick between them stretch taut, sag as it thinned, and then break. He was mesmerized.

Dean sobbed into the bedding.

Cas released Dean’s wrists.

“Hold your left with your right,” the Alpha instructed, still in a daze himself. The fingers of Dean’s right hand circled his left wrist and tightened. Everything felt surreal. Cas dream walked to his dresser and retrieved a simple strap from the top drawer. When he returned, Dean was right where he’d left him.

“Set your feet,” he heard himself say.

“Alpha, please. I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”

“Set your feet, Dean.”

He watched Dean’s feet re-set themselves, and he felt the spark of instruction from inside Dean’s head that moved them. He breathed out.

“Promises to behave in the future have no bearing on the moment, my Pet, because you’re being punished for what you did, not for what you might do. Take a deep breath.”

Cas heard himself speak, but he was outside of himself. Was he floating? 

He was.

He could see and think, but it was as if someone else’s thoughts drove his body into motion. Nothing seemed real. Time seemed immaterial. Pain seemed a curious aspect of reality that could be lifted in his hands and inspected with an inquisitive mind and then set back into place like an exhibit at a museum. Pain wasn’t good or bad. It simply was.

Cas laid the strap hard across Dean’s hips and watched the colors flare in Dean’s head, red and orange and yellow, sparking hotter in some places than others. He did it again, and he watched the orange overtake the yellow. Another strike flashed all orange and red with more and more sparks. Another, and the orange lost out to deep, harsh red. Dean cried out.

Cas watched in a dizzying daze. He struck Dean ten hard stripes, each strike intensifying in color and power.

Dean came hard against the bedcovers, and Cas landed back on earth with a thump.

“Oh,” he said in surprise.

He set the strap down on the bedspread and ran his fingertips over Dean’s ass. It was quite standard in the level of damage, and Dean didn’t seem distressed.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” the Sub was quick to add, still panting.

“No. No, that was my fault.” The stark realism of the moment was at odds with the dreamlike sense he’d just emerged from, and Cas couldn’t reconcile the two for a moment. “Dean, that was…Is it always like that?”

“Like what?”

Dean released his wrist and twisted around a little. “Alpha, you okay? What’s wrong? You’re pale as a ghost.”

“I’m okay.” He sat down hard on the bed, and Dean scrambled up to kneel in front of him.

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure. I think I joined you in Subspace, maybe? It was the oddest sensation. I was floating outside myself, and your pain turned into bright colors, and….” He petered off, still stunned.

“Hoo, boy,” Dean said carefully. “Easy there, Alpha. That’s not a coaster you’re supposed to be riding. How on earth did you get that far in?”

“I don’t know.” Cas still felt a little dizzy. “We were echoing. I leaned into it. It felt like a tornado, and I just kept pressing deeper in. It felt good. You felt good, Dean.”

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me. I don’t usually lose my grip like that. I’m so sorry. I haven’t done that in years. I owe you one for that.”

“For what?” Cas asked, confused.

Dean scoffed in self-effacing shame. “For coming without permission, Cas. I’m better than that. I’m really sorry.”

Cas shook his head. “No, I mean it, Dean. That was me. My fault, not yours. I’m the one who lost his grip.”

Dean rolled back into a squat in front of Cas and reached up to cradle his cheek. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, just dazed, I guess.”

Dean chuckled. “That was something though, wasn’t it? Were you really right there with me? I thought you were, but then I thought, no, can’t be.”

“I think so? It was an astounding experience.”

“Right? Think we could make it happen again?”

Cas kissed the palm of Dean’s hand. “I’d like that. I don’t really know what we did differently this time.”

“Well, if anyone can figure it out, it’s you. And hey, I’m here ready and willing to practice on any time you wanna give it a shot.” Dean grunted as he stood up. “Jesus Christ, my ass.”

“Turn around, Dean. Let me see.”

Dean complied, and he looked back over his own shoulder as well. Cas held onto his wrist and turned him back and forth a little, to check both hips.

“We didn’t do our usual talk-down at the end, Alpha,” Dean pointed out. “Kinda feels like we forgot to close this one out.”

“Apologies, Dean. That was all the punishment I meant to deliver, so from that perspective, we’re through. Come here and lay down with me for a few minutes. I owe you some cuddle time.”

Dean scoffed at the formality, but he wasn’t about to turn down cuddle time. He slipped beneath the bedding when Cas held it open for him, and he basked in the warmth of his husband’s embrace in the cocoon of their bed, letting Cas kiss his face all over and down his neck.

“So. Resolution,” Cas opened as he found he’d kissed every inch of Dean’s face and throat already.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Dean told him solemnly. “You’ve tried to tell me from the very beginning. The possessiveness. I thought it was cute. I thought it was a roleplay. I always thought you were just trying to make me feel valued.”

“Dean, it’s not…”

“And I do, Cas. I do feel valued. It’s fucked up, but that possessive glint in your eye always made me feel like I was worth something even when nothing else worked for me. I guess I always thought it was just a play though, like a little bit of a patronizing take on what it would feel like to be truly valuable. No, wait…”

Cas had begun to protest, but he stopped when Dean put a finger over his lips.

“Wait. I get it. I do. It’s just that in the wake of my Claiming you and the two of us getting hitched, I forgot to try to figure out how much of that glint was play and how much was real.”

“Dean, I have to apologize because it’s a burden to ask you to carry this with me, but I don’t see another way. I can’t get rid of it. All I can do is manage it.”

Dean chuckled and leaned in for a soft kiss. “I don’t mind carrying it with you, C.J. You’re not a burden to me. Your wolf and your Alpha aren’t burdens either. Everything about you that you let me see is an honor.”

Cas kissed him back and swallowed uncomfortably. “You made several very good points. You said you feel controlled if I don’t allow you to set the parameters for your scenes with Michael,” he reminded Dean.

“Yeah. I know,” Dean sighed. He blinked slowly in the warmth. “I guess our resolution is that I need to come to terms with being married to a possessive, controlling tyrant, and I need you to set me some new rules – the personal ones. We can add, ‘no fucking strangers’ to that list. I assume clients are okay since they’re vetted by the system you built. What else?”

Cas chuckled. “How is it that managing you as a Sub can be so breathtakingly difficult one moment, and so damned easy the next?”

“It’s the endorphins,” Dean told him confidently. “You might also consider not saying things like, ‘I’ll give you anything you want’, if that’s not actually what you meant. It’s okay to ask for what _you_ want too, C.J. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How does your rectum feel? Do you think we tore anything?” Cas changed the subject.

“Seriously? Dude, your pillow-talk sucks.”

“Dean…”

“Fine, Cas. I’m fine. I’m stretched and gaping, and it aches, but I’m fine. We’re close enough to the end of Michael’s Heat that it was still all kinda loose anyway.”

“Good. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“I love you, too, Cas.” 

The next few minutes were lost to deep, soft, exploratory kisses.

“Shit! I was supposed to take Alex so April can conference call with Nick!” Dean scrambled to get out of bed.

“Dean, relax. Michael and Gabe have Alex. I talked to them before I came upstairs.”

“Gabe’s due to trip into Heat any minute now!”

“And if that happens, I’m certain Michael can handle it until we come back down.”

“Pshh! Four parents and only one pup, and we still need Uncle Gabe to fill in for us. We’re fucked when the triplets get here, man.” Dean’s voice was gritty from his ordeal. He sounded in need of a nap as his mind skittered from one topic to another without digging hard into any of them.

“We would be, except that Uncle Gabe and Aunt Kali are happy to lend a hand. We’ll be fine, Dean, although I do appreciate your restraint this last cycle. I’m relieved there’s not another pregnancy to manage. Not just yet, anyway.”

Dean laughed and decried, “Jesus, Castiel. Pot, meet kettle. You fucked her so full of pups, they’re squirting out her ears!” He rolled down onto his back, covering his eyes with his hands in an effort to stop the whirling of his mind. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant – like a good buzz after a few beers – but it was distracting.

Cas giggled. Dean laughed at him.

“You sat there all judgmental and shit and proclaimed the Pack wasn’t ready for pups, and then you went blotto and drowned us in ‘em. The fuck is the matter with you, man? Restraint? Fuck you.”

Cas laughed harder, and Dean joined him.

Dean caught the shift in his husband’s mood before the laughter fully faded, and the spinning in his head came to a screeching halt. He shook his head, took Castiel’s face in his hand, and cut him off before he’d said a word.

“No, C.J. Stop right there. It could’ve happened to anyone. We’ve been over this. You’re not responsible for losing Dylan.” Dean’s eyes were hard and alpha.

“I knew when she caught, Dean. I could feel it from the first conception, but I didn’t stop until every egg that was viable was fertilized. She can’t carry four. I was selfish, and it’s my fault. There’s a difference between never having fertilized an egg in the first place and losing one that’s already got a beating heart.” Cas held onto Dean’s eyes like a lifeline. “It was my decision to keep going, not hers. Dean, I didn’t give her a choice.”

Dean shook his head again. “No, baby. No. If the embryo had been sound, she would’ve carried all four and been happy to do it. She made the same choice you did. It was just one of those things, man. Even if Dylan had been our only pup this round, he probably wouldn’t have made it. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t April’s fault. Babe, it was no one’s fault. These things happen. Lots of embryos aren’t viable. You know I was teasing you. Cas, you weren’t selfish. You were Alpha. You behaved instinctively, just like you’re meant to. It wasn’t your Breeding kink that kept you going in there, it was the Breeding _drive_ , and it was perfectly natural. I’d have done the same. Hell, I _did_ the same. Michael only conceived one because he’s only capable of conceiving one at a time, not because I had a Herculean level of restraint.”

“Yeah. I know. It hurts. I keep going over it in my mind, wondering if… No. No, you’re right. Thanks, Dean.”

“Hey, don’t get gloomy on me. You’re s’posed to be snuggling your Sub right now.”

“Mmm, and he’s a deliciously snuggle-able Sub, too.” Cas tugged on Dean’s hip until he rolled back into place against his husband’s chest. For several minutes they breathed together, enjoying the simplicity. Dean watched from the inside as Cas grieved silently. He came to a peaceful, still place in his mind, and Dean tightened his embrace.

“Cas, I have a confession to make.”

“Oh, Lord, what now? You’re not going gloomy on me, are you? Are you dropping?”

“Shh. No, no, nothing like that. It’s just…the possessiveness…that burning need to keep something…someone…locked away and then to swallow the key so no one else can touch them…”

“Dean, I’m sorry, but it’s not something I know how…”

“Shut up a second, would’ja?”

Cas’ eyes narrowed in a warning way.

“Right. Sorry. Disrespect. I withdraw that last retort. Anyway, listen, I’m trying to tell you I get it. I know exactly what you’re feeling.”

“I’m glad,” Cas replied. “I don’t think I could take another hit any time soon.”

“No, C.J. I mean I get it. Like, I _get it_ , get it. Like, uh, like, me too, kind of?”

“Dean, what are you trying to tell me? Spit it out.”

“Yeah. Right. Spit it out. Okay. Here goes. Uh. Cas, I don’t like you fucking Michael. I mean, I know you’ll have to sometimes, what with the hierarchy and all, but can we keep that to a minimum? Please?”

Cas propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Dean in consternation. “Dean, you never said…I didn’t know. His cycle? You were asleep. You were worn out. I…Michael asked me to. I didn’t know. I used a condom. He wasn’t at risk of…”

Dean’s eyes squeezed shut, and he gripped Castiel’s hand.

“You should have said something sooner,” Cas told him.

Dean pressed his lips together and left his eyes closed. 

Cas lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, but…I didn’t know. When we sleep as a foursome, you always seem fine with it.”

“Yeah, I know. I tried, man. I want us to have that as a foursome. And Michael loves it.”

“It’s not all right with me for you to sacrifice yourself to everyone, Dean. Michael will survive.”

“No, man, it’s not the simple. No, wait, maybe it’s simpler. It’s not really the fucking so much as the constant worry that he’s gonna come out of one of those events knocked up. I was chill with it while he was pregnant, cause, you know, he can’t get knocked up twice. It was like a grace period. But now he’s fertile again, and I’m coming outta my skin over here every time you two make bedroom eyes at each other.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

“This is manageable.”

“I told myself that you’re a professional and that in all the years you worked the field, you fucked thousands of people with wombs, and not a one of them ever came up pregnant. It’s not gonna happen.”

“No, Dean,” Cas told him straight out, looking right into his eyes. “It’s not going to happen. I swear to you. I consider this a sacred oath. Do you hear me? If I’d known before we married, I would have made it a part of my vows. I will never father children through Michael. Further, I will never touch him without your explicit, single-event permission. I will add these addendums to our scening contract. You have my solemn vow.”

“Jeez, man, I didn’t mean for it to be a federal case…”

“Dean, stop. Listen to me. If anyone in the world understands the burn of a possessive obsession,” he laughed humorlessly and flopped his hand out in defeat. “It’s me. This is not an unreasonable thing you’re asking for. Jesus Christ, baby, you ask for so little. We can give you this, Michael and me, both. I can handle him carefully for hierarchical claiming, and as to the foursome, we can take it day by day, and let you set the speed and the depth of what I share with Michael. If it turns out that we’re better off putting those boundaries back up, that’s what we’ll do. Does Michael know how you feel?”

“I’m crap at hiding anything from Michael, Cas.”

“And yet he propositioned me during your cycle. Was that a defiance, Dean, or has he got a handle on what you do and don’t find hard to deal with?”

“He wouldn’t defy me intentionally,” Dean mused. “Half the time he runs me better than I run me. I gotta think it was that he knows it’s really all about the breeding thing.”

“I see.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled.

Cas snickered and lay back down. He gathered Dean in his arms. “You know,” he said grandly. “Way back when Michael was struggling to settle and it became apparent that only he and I were suffering the chronic effects of an unsatisfied breeding drive, I wondered if the answer might be that it would solidify ranks in every way for me to breed him.”

Dean growled menacingly.

“Ah. No. Forgive me. That was not intended as a provocation, merely an observation. Something always kept me from suggesting it, even as it began to seem like the most elegant solution. Perhaps a deep, instinctive part of me knew your mind better than I was aware.”

“I’m not enjoying this line of discussion, Alpha,” Dean pointed out between clenched teeth. “I think you should take your thought experiment down a different track.”

“Yes. That’s enough of that.”

“You were testing me,” Dean accused.

Cas’ eyes took on a wide innocence. “I wasn’t.”

“I’ve known you a long time, beloved,” Dean said starkly. “Let’s not pretend we don’t know how you manage these things. There’s always a test so you can set your Alpha to cataloguing intensity and motive, and you can let your wolf chew on the base emotions.”

The look on Castiel’s face was priceless. “Dean, I wouldn’t!”

Dean laughed. “God, I love you, C.J. You’re predictable to a fault sometimes, and I just wanna say this: that little test? – That’s what tells me you heard me, you understood, and you’re taking it seriously. So I’m good. Just don’t keep poking at it, yeah?”

Cas was gobsmacked. “Jesus. I never realized.”

And Dean laughed harder.

“No, truly. What else have you figured out about me that I don’t know myself?”

“Oh, no you don’t! I’ve given away enough of my secrets to you for one afternoon. Come on. Enough aftercare. I have a birthday cake to bake.”

“And a cobbler. I promised Sarah one she could take to dinner with Fred tonight.”

“What? Sheesh, man. You promised her, you bake it!”

“Don’t be stupid. I don’t know the first thing about baking.”

“Well, it’s time you learned. I’ll talk you through it. Crap, I don’t even know any fruits that are in season in April. Does it have to be a cobbler?”

Cas took him by the hand and led him into the closet to dress.

“I like that look on you, by the way,” Dean observed. “A starched white shirt and no pants. That’s hot as fuck.”

“I thought we just addressed your disrespectful tone, Pet. Do you need me to reiterate?”

Dean laughed and aimed a swat at Cas’ bare ass, but the Alpha caught his hand before it connected, twisted it up behind his back, bent him double, and landed a solid ten on his red backside.

“Don’t do that again, my love. Understand?”

“Yessir,” Dean chirped happily.

“Good boy.”

 

*******************

 

 

Sam took a sip of water to clear his throat, and then he turned and addressed the class. He had twelve Primates registered this round – his third round. The first class had been a mess, but he’d learned a great deal about how to communicate with apes. He’d also learned that the ‘Y’ didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark about the nature of his class.

He and Sarah had been forced to find another meeting space, but the college had finally come through with a little pressure from Benny.

All in all, each session was proving better than the last, and he had high hopes for this one. There was only one woman in attendance, a fact that Sam found odd but which Sarah didn’t consider unexpected at all. She’d shrugged.

And they were each affiliated with a sports club of one stripe or another – the lone woman managed a highly competitive women’s fast pitch softball team. The men mostly coached football and baseball, although one lithe young man was the team captain for a water polo team. They all sat alert and interested, their eyes on Sam, waiting for enlightenment.

“Corporal punishment of adult Primates is illegal in the United States,” Sam began. “Striking another person’s body with the intent of causing pain or leaving marks is assault. Know that before we begin. What I’m planning to show you, under the law, is indefensible. If you do this, and you are charged, you’ll most likely be convicted. If that’s a concern to any of you, please don’t waste our time. If you’re desperate enough to try this anyway, then it’s critical that you do it right. Don’t do it without training.”

The class looked uncomfortable, but one by one, Sam saw them steel their resolve. Each pair of eyes cleared and firmed and met his with conviction.

Primates were astoundingly easy to read.

Sam smirked slightly and nodded.

“All right. Good. Off we go. So. You’re here because you are responsible for the conduct of young adults whose performance on the pitch is exceptional, but whose performance in public is a disgrace. You’re dealing with entitlement and issues of control. Some of you have young men and women under your eye who have never been expected to manage themselves and have never been told ‘no’. Some of these young adults are incapable of reining in their own impulses. Now, please note what I said: they aren’t refusing to control themselves. Right now, they’re incapable. We’re going to fix that. We’re going to give them tools they can use to learn control and safe decision-making.”

Sam strolled among the desks as he spoke, drawing their eyes to the edges of the classroom where he’d mounted silicone dummy backsides and a plethora of striking tools.

“The process I’m going to teach you is the oldest and simplest form of behavior modification there is. It’s classic conditioning. You’re going to provide your charges with easy decisions: one decision leads to a pleasant outcome that they will enjoy, while the other leads to painful correction that they won’t. Those must be the only two options, and it’s up to you to set the parameters and to see it through.

“I will teach you how to apply a proper physical correction without breaking their spirit or inciting them to press assault charges. Equally important, I will teach you how to reward good choices in a way that they find truly fulfilling. The most important thing you must learn from this class is that the rewards you offer them _must_ be more powerful than the pleasure they obtain from whatever it is they’re giving up. Many adults will continue to choose unhealthy options until the pain:pleasure threshold is forcibly switched for them.

“And no, you won’t be offering them any kind of sexual reward. Yes, we do that in the Lupin community. But you are not wolves, and your brains categorize sex differently than ours. Do NOT attempt that. Period. Any questions? No?”

Sam had circled back to the front where Sarah had the laptop set up to project videos to the screen up front. He nodded to her, and she clicked into the first one.

Sam faced the students. “We’re going to show you two videos, and I want you to watch them both carefully. At the end, you’re going to tell me which depicts a productive spanking and which doesn’t, and then we’ll discuss the difference. Go ahead, Sarah.”

The videos were short. All of the actors were of similar ages and sizes. They were dressed the same. They spoke the exact same words. But where one was sultry, with long, gentle caresses across the actor’s ass and down between his legs after each slap, the other was businesslike. In the first, each slap was barely hard enough to register a sound at all. In the second, the pop of the hand striking flesh was a gunshot, and the skin reddened noticeably as they watched.

“You see the difference?” Sam asked when the videos ended. “Primates are notorious for being incapable of separating spanking from sex. I believe that’s a misconception based on not having been exposed to proper spanking as a culture, and I mean to change that. This isn’t sexual. It’s not sexual in any way between the two of you, and keeping that barrier in place is critical to the success of this endeavor. If you make it sexual or your charge makes it sexual, it’s doomed to failure.”

A shaky hand went up near the back.

Sam nodded at the man.

“What if…You say it’s not sexual, but what if… I mean, sometimes people’s bodies do things on their own…?”

“If you or your charge experiences an arousal reaction during a spanking,” Sam said, turning to speak to the entire class. “You _must_ ignore it. If you determine through practice that you are prone to experiencing arousal during a spanking, it would behoove you spend a few quality moments alone before you confront the spankee so that you can re-set your refractory period and avoid that discomfort.

“Let me be clear,” Sam told them firmly. “Sexual arousal is natural. There is _nothing_ shameful about an erection. They happen. Spanking is a sensual experience, and many people are turned on by it. You are not a slave to your erection though. You are its master. You decide when and where and under what circumstances you respond to that erection, and the time and place is _not_ during corporal punishment. It’s not during the calming-down and comforting phase at the end either. If your charge points it out, you redirect. If they attempt to initiate, you redirect. Don’t go there. If you find you need to explore a spanking-kink further, you do it on your own time with your own intimate partners, and you keep it between yourselves. Don’t _ever_ cross the line into sexual contact with your players. You have a whole world of other options available to you. The team members are off limits.”

Sam could read their thoughts as if they had thought bubbles scribed above their heads. They were still skeptical, but that wouldn’t last. To Sam, they were all the most innocent and pliable of submissives. He’d yet to meet a Primate who didn’t seem submissive to him, but he didn’t know if it was real or a translation error. Certainly, they all behaved like subs, eating out of his hand and eager to please him, eager to avoid his displeasure.

Sam kind of wished he’d started this program years ago.

“You will have plenty of time to practice safely in this classroom, and you’ll know before we reach the end if arousal is going to be a challenge you’ll need to manage. We’re going to use the dummies at first, but we are also going to be handing out real corrections to real people, so you’ll get to experience the full weight of the emotional baggage that goes with this practice.

“I can promise all of you one thing: if you pay attention and you follow through with every step of this process, you WILL see a radical shift in the morale and conduct of your teams. Your players will be happier, more balanced, healthier, and they may even perform better in games. You’re going to be astounded at the turn-around, and even better, pretty soon, you’re not going to be spanking anyone because they will have learned good decision-making, and they will govern themselves.”

“Sir?” It was the only woman in the class.

“You don’t need to call me Sir,” he told her. “It’s Sam.”

“If these kids had had this when they were children, would they still need it now? A lot of people are saying that we should bring spanking back in the schools and at home when they’re little. What’s your opinion on that subject?”

Sam sat on the edge of his desk and thought for a moment.

“The decision-making skills that this process conditions to…those can be learned by children, and they can carry through to adulthood. But the age your players are right now is a thing of its own. Young adults are going through a very interesting stage of development. It’s essentially the last stage before they reach mature adulthood, and there’s no way to prepare them fully beforehand. 

“What’s more, spanking children is a much different process than spanking adults. Children need a more sensitive touch than adults do. It’s necessary to be mindful of every facet of their mind and body to a far greater degree. It’s easier to psychologically harm a child than an adult. So, while I’m a proponent of corporal punishment for children when it’s performed correctly, performing it correctly is not easy, and I am not a proponent of opening that door to the general public.

“What fascinates me is that children being spanked correctly does not correlate to young adults who behave well. It is counterintuitive, but the science tells us that each phase of a person’s life is a unique experience. The brain is developing different aspects that must each be addressed appropriately and at the right time. I need all of you to understand this. You are helping these young men and women to become their best adult selves. Without you, they would be less realized, less actualized, than they have the capacity to be. Think about that.”

Sam met all of their eyes one by one. They all looked nervous and a bit overwhelmed. That was good. They were listening.

“One final note before we really dig in and discuss the videos. Some of you may experience a sense of regret as you go through this program. You may come to realize that you yourself missed out on having anyone do this for you at a time in your life when it would have been very powerful. Please understand that this emotion is perfectly normal. Know this: As the Top in this exchange, you also have the power to allow your younger self to hear the message, to experience the correction, to take a healthy dose of conditioning for yourself. No one needs to know that there’s a piece of your psyche under the paddle. No one needs to know that your words might be hitting your own ear when you speak to a young player who needs to hear them. Re-parenting yourself is a powerful reward to doing this kind of work. It will make you a better person at the same time it helps someone else.”

Sam left the training room feeling enormously fulfilled. There was something radical going on between the species, and he was spearheading it. He and Sarah were stretching across the chasm between peoples, and they were finding connection on both sides. Quite possibly, the world would never be the same. That chasm was getting smaller with every class he completed. Sam had a note pinned to his board at The Facility that showed one of his first trainees’ teams had just won their division title. Every player had signed it, and they all left him words of gratitude. He grinned at Sarah, and she smiled back, amused at his puppy-like enthusiasm.

Sam couldn’t wait to get home. He was revved in a way he needed his mate for. His blanket confirmation that erections were both natural and under the control of their masters was well-directed, striking home in Sam himself. He needed to fuck something, but it would have to keep until he got home. Tonight, Sam intended to sleep over at the manor and to make use of the open invitation for a night of babysitting.

“You might wanna take care of that before you go to class,” Sarah told him as they walked across campus toward the behemoth the ACRI Facility had grown into on its northwest corner. “I had Professor Holloway myself two semesters ago, and she’s a cranky bitch if she thinks someone’s distracted.”

“I’ll think about it,” he told her dismissively. In his head, he was working the logistics. He had twenty minutes to drop his bundles off at his office and then either catch a bus or drive across town to the KU campus for his next class – as a student this time, not the teacher. Taking the bus would allow him to skip hunting for a parking space, but he would be a slave to its timetable, and he couldn’t afford to be late.

“Hey,” Sarah interrupted. “It’s fine. I’ll drop you off. I’ve got to go that way for a meeting anyway. You have time for a stop-in at the blue door if you make it quick.”

Sam stopped walking and stared at her.

“What?” she asked cheekily. “I learn. I pay attention. Hand me that case and go on down to the one on the first floor.”

Sam laughed and kissed her cheek. “You’re adorable. Thank you. I can carry the case to my office first. And besides, I don’t need a blue door. My brother has a whole suite to himself that’s just two doors down from my office. I usually slip in there when I need to.”

She grinned at him again, proud of herself for starting to pick up nuance. Although, with his slacks tenting the way they were, there wasn’t a lot of nuance to it.

“I’ll take the ride though,” he added. “That’ll save me a lot of stress. I owe you one.”

“Good,” she said. “I like it when you’re in my debt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I figure myself out in the Timestamps, I make no promises to keep them chronological. I've begun using the set date as the Chapter title so that if I do backtrack on myself, as I fully expect to do, there will be some form of pin to keep things straight.


	3. May 21 – 23, 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean schools a pretentious alpha. Decisions are made to enlarge the Pack or send the newbies packing. Michael has an important choice to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skipped a month when life got convoluted on me, and I couldn't hear these guys chattering away at me over the chaos in the real world. But then this chapter happened. There is no smut and no punishment in this one, but I like the way it turned out anyway. It's heavily 'talkie'. I will get them _doing_ things instead of simply talking about doing things again very soon, and I haven't forgotten Dean's been promised a replacement for the scene Cas spoiled. That's coming too.
> 
> I've also fallen way behind on responding to your comments. Writing new material and answering comments requires my mind to be in a creative frame, and that's been out of reach for a month or so for whatever reason. I've filled the time on editing out typos from way back in the early chapters. It's a pointless endeavor considering most everyone who's going to read it has already been through those chapters, but I find it fulfilling - my own version of a therapeutic happy place.
> 
> I hope you enjoy Timestamp 3. April's pups are due in a couple of weeks.

 

The panel presentation was about halfway through its allotted time. It was going well, moderated by a Primate woman from the sociology department of the little college in KU’s shadow that had become eclipsed by Castiel’s gargantuan institute and had reversed roles over the years, from supporting the ACRI in its infancy to sucking off the teat of its success in the bloom of its full success. This seminar was billed as a chance for the public to poke into the meat of the poly dynamic the Winchesters had settled on, and the questions thus far were thoughtful and accepting. Most of the attendants were locals with at least a passing familiarity with both the Novak family and their _Noblesse oblige_ attitude toward society and the Winchesters and their gritty salt of the earth realism. It was a hometown crowd, and they faced little opposition in the questioning.

…Until the twenty-something hipster with his embroidered beanie and his crocheted overshirt stepped up to the microphone.

April hid a giggle behind her hand with a duck of her head. Castiel’s hand found its way to the back of her neck.

The young alpha postured before the microphone with his head cocked irreverently before he spoke, and he studied the six of them in the panel. His eyes narrowed and fixed on Dean. Dean stiffened slightly, and Michael leaned toward him as if to shield his mate with his body.

“So, let me get this straight,” the young man began confrontationally. “You criticize the progressives for stifling their wolves and playing at being apes. Then you do a shitload of studies on how to feed the wolf in private so you can _look_ like you’re stifling your wolf when you’re out in public, all so you can keep playing at being apes. That about right? I wanna know when the pretending stops and we can expect Lupin culture to embrace being _wolves_ again. All this assimilation makes my ass twitch. Are you _that_ scared the monkeys are gonna kick you back into the woods if they don’t like you enough? Are you still worried we’re scaring them? Hasn’t it occurred to you that we don’t have to live like they do? Don’t you see it? You don’t _have_ to live the way they do. You’re still letting Primates define the box you live in. You people kinda make me sick, to tell you the truth.”

“Is that so?” Dean asked dismissively. “I notice you’re not standing here buck naked. You’re wearing shoes. You bought a ticket with money you earned somewhere or someone gave you. Where exactly do you draw the line? How much assimilation is acceptable?”

“Dude, you got _married!_ ” the young man pointed out passionately. “Wolves _mate!_ They don’t marry.

“Oh, this is bullshit,” Dean answered him back, scooting forward in his chair. “And to be real clear, there was a lot about our wedding – and our marriage – that isn’t what the apes do at all. You’ve got some nerve.”

“Dean,” Cas warned.

“No, it’s bullshit, Alpha. We get this assimilationist crap all the time, but you know who it comes from? Not from the deep woods where Lupins are living authentic lives in real packs without the trappings of the monkey troop. The _route_ of wolves in the wild couldn’t care less whether some of us adopt civil standards of modern society or a familial framework. It comes from the upper class adolescent college crowd who just left their Alphas’ houses and got their first good look at the big wide world at large and all that freedom, all those choices, who think, ‘Holy fuck! I don’t have to go to bed at nine o’clock anymore. Whee!’ It’s bullshit! You know it is.”

Dean turned back to the young man standing at the microphone whose arms now crossed his chest aggressively.

“Let me guess. You’re about twenty-three. You live in a commune where you, a couple of other alphas and a beta or two, all of you men, grow your own food and see to each other’s needs. No rules but what your instincts drive you to do and a natural hierarchy that you maintain through weekly tussling matches. You share incomes even though two of you don’t contribute shit, and you’re convinced you’ve discovered Nirvana. Well, I’ve got some news for you. You’re not the first wolves to try that, and you’re not on to a whole new natural way of life. You’re experiencing your second adolescence. It’s part of the fucking life cycle, dude. Look it up. Once it’s run its course, roughing it like that is gonna get old real fast, and you’ll find that A/C and pre-packaged hummus look pretty damned attractive.”

Michael put a hand on Dean’s thigh and sent him support through the bonds they shared. Dean could feel his heart thumping hard in his chest. The question of assimilation had begun to erode their base, and it wasn’t going away. It infuriated Dean because it had the potential to drive wolves who desperately needed a scaffold-like structure to the framework of their lives into attempting to live like hippies.

Dean continued. “You know why you’re so sure living a life without societal standards is the best choice? Because you fucking _can!_ That’s why. You’ve had all the support you needed for your whole life. Well, goody for you. And I get it, man. Me too, you know? I had some stumbling blocks along the way, but there was never a point in my life where I had no one to turn to to help me out with the pull of my wolf. But has it occurred to you that maybe you’re not the target audience when we talk about how crucial it is to build stability into a home pack?

“Man, it’s a luxury to stand there and bitch about assimilation as if that’s the biggest hurdle we’re facing as a species. But wake the fuck up. You’re like a rich retired couple complaining that we don’t need soup kitchens or public schools just because _you_ don’t use them. You don’t wanna get married? Don’t fucking get married, dude! But don’t shit all over us for figuring out that it’s what works best for us and provides that framework our Pack needs.”

“It’s more than the marriage, alpha,” the young man protested, but he didn’t get any further.

Dean didn’t let him continue. “Yeah, you’re damn right it’s more than the marriage. It’s the whole structure. I give you three years of living your hippie ideal before it all comes crashing down, and that’s being generous. What we’re doing up here today is not trying to demand the whole Lupin pack follow our lead and set up little cookie cutter packs all over the world structured exactly like this. What we’re doing is talking about what’s worked for us and what hasn’t. It’s a dialogue that everyone gets to chime in on. We wanna hear what else works, and we’re gonna keep y’all up to date on things in our pack as they change. If we fall flat on our faces at some point cause we tried something that went belly up, you’re gonna hear about it from us. Will you do the same? When your little campfire sausage-fest implodes on itself, are you going to advertise what went wrong?” Dean squeezed Michael’s thigh back in response.

He went on. “What I’m saying is that this adolescent judgy attitude you’re throwing out is a proven dead end. Communes are not sustainable, alpha, but you go ahead and give it a shot anyway.”

“What makes you so sure it’s not sustainable?” knit cap asked pointedly.

“You got any Omegas in your pack?” Dean asked with his brows raised.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You don’t. You don’t have to answer. You have no Omegas, no women, no youth, no pups, maybe one Submissive. Pack like yours falls apart in a matter of weeks if Omegas join because there’s no structure. But here’s the thing, man. Omegas exist. You can’t just put blinders on and pretend to have built the perfect little pseudo wildlife station if you cut out a fifth of the population. Pups? Forget it. Pups can’t thrive in a place like that. What you’re actually doing is older than civilization. You’re sowing your oats and shrugging off the constraints of your birth pack. You’re coming into your own as alphas and beta-Dominants. It’s a necessary stage of a lot of alphas’ lives, and you need to get through this stage before you head into the next one. But you don’t have the right to try to tug the adults in the room back into puberty with you just because you can’t see the full vista yet.”

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam whispered.

“It pisses me off, Sam! Douchebags like this guy have a tiny slice of the full view and they come spouting nonsense, and vulnerable people listen to them and go off somewhere into the woods with no pack support instead of settling down somewhere safe, somewhere that might look a whole lot like an ape’s homelife on the surface. _Magneto_ here has them convinced that structure and support are dirty synonyms for Primate assimilation. He thinks it should be the wolves ruling the world and making the Primates bow to us. He’s had everything he’s ever wanted handed to him no questions asked, and he believes he knows how the world works.”

Dean addressed the questioner again, leaving Michael slack jawed. “Look, you really wanna see what I’m talking about, come down to our Facility three days a week and volunteer in ‘Omega Services’. Try to picture any of those people living the sweet life of dipping candles and fucking each other over tree stumps.” Dean glanced at Cas and saw that the Alpha had a deeply contemplative look on his face.

“You’re not buying his bullshit, are you?” he shot at his husband.

Cas frowned. “I’m not sure it’s all bullshit, Dean. There may be a valid point. We did model our Pack on a Primate family structure, and there’s no reason that has to be the only functional option.”

Dean gestured out toward the microphone as if to say, ‘Come on, LOOK at him’.

Cas scratched his forehead and continued. “No, I’m not suggesting we all shrug off the trappings of modern society and live in the woods, but it’s conceivable that as long as the societal supports were in place, living that way could work. It would be vastly more difficult without the conveniences of modern life.”

Michael spoke up softly. “Seems like if you wanna live like a wild animal, you should be allowed to, but I don’t see that as having a higher moral standing that living in a home wired for electricity. In fact, if you really want an authentic life, quit fucking around in the acreage behind the Wal-Mart and go all the way back to the home villages. …If they’ll have you, smelling like you haven’t bathed in a month.”

“Michael, that’s enough,” Cas chided quietly. 

“The point is,” Dean picked it back up. “You have choices that not everyone has. When you start picking at things like cultural appropriation and assimilationism and whatever the fuck it means to ‘live authentically’ you can pretty well bet your ass you’re already living the sweet life. 

“Abused and trafficked Omegas don’t worry about things like assimilation,” Dean continued adamantly. “Abandoned alphas who got kicked outta their homes at their Presentation so their Pack Alphas don’t face a challenge when they get older don’t give a shit about assimilation. Doms and Subs who have no outlet to feed their wolves except the one joint in town that has contractors who won’t rape them don’t give a fuck about authenticity. We’re dealing with life and death issues every damn day, kid, and you want us to focus on why we felt it necessary to turn our wedding into an ape ceremony. You know what? No one who sees the big picture gives a fuck. 

“And I’ll give you one more morsel for thought. I want you to examine real hard why you care that our homelife resembles an ape’s. If you get pissed that we feel comfortable assimilating, ask yourself what you actually want from us instead. Isn’t it that you don’t wanna be a radical isolationist all by yourself? Wouldn’t you rather have a pack around you who all agree with _you?_ Who all assimilate with _you?_ I want you to think about what you really want from us. Lupins are far more tribal than the Simians, and we need Pack to thrive. You’re hunting for a pack here, aren’t you? So, if you’re insisting that we conform to _your_ worldview instead of someone else’s so you can feel comforted by the tribal Pack mentality, then fuck you, dude. Assimilate that.”

“Dean!”

“Apologies, Alpha.”

Cas cleared his throat with a pointed look at Dean that had April sitting up straighter. The Alpha regarded the bearded man at the microphone. “It’s important for us to keep in mind,” he said regally, “that Lupins played no part in building the structures of this modern society. We did not design any of its great cities. We built no roads, no universities, no libraries, no hospitals, no businesses, no institutions of great renown until the last two centuries or so. The history of civilization thrived for millennia without us. We are late comers to this modern world, and upon our arrival, we took full advantage of what was already here. It is a matter of opinion as to whether that saddles us with a responsibility to assimilate or not. I believe that to a degree, it does. One does not move into someone else’s home and demand they plant an oak tree in their living room.

“We are not restricted from making our contributions going forward, however. We have valuable contributions to make, and although we are immigrants into this great society, it is also true that nearly everyone is an immigrant from somewhere if we go back far enough. To say that newcomers have no right to step into the moving machinery of society and to bend their backs into the turning of the wheel is preposterous. It is our civic duty to add our muscle and our minds to the improvement of society, and it is likewise our duty to find a way to fit ourselves into what’s already established without upending the entire apple cart. We have no right to arrive late to the party and insist that society deform itself to make way for us. It is also my firm belief that society as it stands can work for us as a species. It isn’t necessary to destroy the conventions of civilization in order to live authentically. It is merely a matter of focusing upon what really matters to us. Each of us, individually as well as on the Pack scale, has the right to decide to what degree assimilation fits our needs. It is no more my right to define that for you, alpha, than it is for you to do so for me. We are in no danger of being swamped by Primate culture. We cannot breed with them. We can only take assimilation so far anyway. At some level, the choices are made for us by biology, and we are not confined to embrace the norms and mores of the world precisely as they are in this moment of time without alteration.” 

“You’re all a bunch of hypocrites,” the questioner told him bravely. “You’ve got the whole species eating tamely out of the palm of your hand, and you’re leading them right into the grinding mill. Primates don’t give a damn about us. They don’t respect you for building great institutions. You look like a puppy begging for scraps to them, and they’re never going to see us as human.”

Dean and Sam both growled, but Castiel put a hand up to calm them. “We may have to disagree about that, alpha. If I worried how I was perceived, perhaps I would be more guilty of assimilating than I feel I am. It’s never been about whether the Primates value me. It’s about living a life of value for myself and my Pack. I’m interested to follow up with you about how you’ve structured your own pack. It would be gratifying to see you make that model work for the first time, if for no other reason than to prove to Dean that it’s possible.”

Dean scoffed rudely. “It’s not possible, Cas. He’s running a halfway house for young bucks who aren’t ready to Mate yet. It’s a loose association of lone wolves. It’s a safe place for them to work out how to leash their wolves, how to flex their Secondaries, and to burn off the aggression and the lust they’ve got ramping up their blood. It feels like freedom to them because for the first time in their lives, they’re uncomfortable, and that’s a revelation to spoiled punk-ass pups who’ve had everything regimented for them up to now.”

Castiel didn’t disagree. The young man was clearly grounded firmly in the throes of the fifth stage of Lupin development. It was a brief period of rapid internal psychological growth, and one of its hallmarks was a rebellious rejection of the _status quo_ and a yearning to teethe on the building blocks of society. But Castiel also believed that he had an obligation to lend an ear to every voice, even those he disagreed with. At this point, Cas held all the power to rudder the ship, and it would be far too easy to swamp dissenting voices with hardly a bump from the keel. He was determined not to do that.

But Dean had a point. What was an assimilation complaint but a demand to assimilate differently, to assimilate with a different tribe? 

_’Be like ME, not like THEM.’_

Cas took a moment to consider his decision to marry Dean and search his situation for an alternative that would have sufficed without the ape ceremony, and he found none. Besides, as Dean pointed out, theirs hadn’t been an ape wedding in whole. Apes didn’t fuck each other stupid on the dais before they broke cake and downed gallons of champagne. Dean would never have settled for a relationship that offered him no mooring. He would have lived in constant fear of a turning of the tide. Dean needed the ring and the signed, filed document on the public record as much as he needed the Claiming. A post-adolescent lone wolf couldn’t know the intricacies of need the Winchesters were balancing. The question was, were the Winchesters a one-off, or were they typical of the modern Pack conundrum? Castiel didn’t have an answer to that yet. They needed studies on the commonalities of Pack dynamics as they evolved. 

They always needed more studies.

April shifted beside him uncomfortably. She took his wrist and smiled up at him as she set his palm upon her belly. One of the triplets was kicking, and Cas grinned.

Sam spoke up from the end. “Look, no one’s saying there’s no value in what you and your friends are doing in your commune, if that’s what it is. We’re all researchers in our own way, and every time we try something new, we learn something new. All we’re saying is that when one of us, any of us, discovers a way to build something stable, let’s try to keep an open mind about it, and not tear each other down because we don’t like where it came from; because there are vulnerable wolves listening to these discussions who are at real risk of permanent injury if they try what you’re trying. And we’re really not advocating marriage for everyone. It doesn’t serve any purpose for most wolves. But an alpha-alpha or Omega-Omega relationship, where there’s a need for a permanent bond but no capacity to Mate… It’s not on you or me to throw the concept of marriage out just because the Primates invented it. We haven’t assimilated, man. We’ve gathered building blocks from everywhere and stacked them up to make something that shelters us as a whole pack. What we’re saying is that everyone needs to do exactly that when they get to the point of thier lives when they need that shelter. Right now, you’re fine without it. Add some uncertainty into your life though: a mate, a pup, an Omega, a disability, an illness, an expense you can’t pay for, an alpha lover you can’t live without… and you might find some of those blocks don’t look so bad.”

 

***************

 

The house was quiet at long last, and Castiel carried his son into the kitchen cradling Alex’s head high on his shoulder where the scent would be powerful. The pup wriggled, struggling to pull higher, nearer the Alpha’s throat, seeking.

“Shhh, little one. Be still, now. Papa’s got you. I’m not going anywhere.” He hummed softly as he gathered a plate of nutrient-rich snacks for April and Michael to share. Keeping the two of them fed sufficiently was an ongoing challenge, both of them still supporting the nutritional needs of all the pups. Cas waited for the microwave to finish its cycle, and he used the brief moments to lower his son into his arms to look at him, to talk to him. The child was angelically beautiful, with rich grey eyes and a peaches and cream complexion. He gazed up at the Alpha as if looking into infinity, the awe palpable, and Cas cooed softly down at him, intrigued when his tiny mouth mirrored the motion.

Alex blinked slowly and reached upward. Castiel’s heart throbbed with an ache he couldn’t contain. It was physically painful, and he cherished it. Biologically, Alex and Castiel were unrelated, but it was astounding how swiftly that fact had become irrelevant. Cas smiled at him, noting the trace of Dean in the shape of the pup’s mouth, in his eyes. He fought with himself to stifle the emotion – not stifle it, maybe, but tearing up every time he looked at his son was a bit ridiculous.

It’s just that… _his_ son. Alex was his as surely as he was Michael’s, and it hadn’t taken any mental gymnastics to bring him to that conclusion. It just was. Looking down into his son’s face and seeing Dean’s eyes was dizzying.

Castiel became aware he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. He looked up to find Cain watching him from the archway as the microwave beeped. Cas resettled the pup on his shoulder to free one hand and went back to work.

“Did you need me, alpha?” Cas asked over his shoulder. He heard Cain pull a stool at the island counter and sit down. 

“I need you to speak with her, sir,” said the grim near-stranger in his kitchen. Cas rolled his lips and turned to face the man, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel while balancing the pup against his shoulder.

“Speak to her about what?”

“Her plan is nonsense. It’s a childish whim, and I can’t begin to make it work. She won’t listen to reason.”

Cas chuckled and turned back around to gather the tray, balancing it carefully on one palm like a waiter. “We’ve had this discussion, Cain. Her career, not mine. I’m not getting into it unless her behavior becomes erratic. I see no sign of that. I suggest you rethink your approach. It’s not she who needs to adjust. _You’re_ the employee.”

“I’m the manager, sir. I can’t manage chaos, and we can’t keep on like this – both heading in opposite directions all the time. She can’t strike everywhere at once. It’s insane. She needs to focus on being a composer for musicals if that’s where she wants to start. Instead, she’s writing riffs for a blues gig she’s never going to perform and can’t sell, and she’s stamping out pop lyrics that mean nothing to anyone. She’s got two pages of a sonata on her piano right now, for fuck’s sake. A sonata, Alpha! What the hell am I supposed to do with that? No one wants a sonata written by a 19-year-old that nobody’s ever heard of!”

Cas chuckled again. “Figure it out,” he instructed. “That’s what she hired you for.”

“It’s impossible, Castiel. You’re asking the impossible.”

Cas sighed and set the tray down on the island. “Look, she can’t perform right now anyway. She’s too heavily pregnant. She’d never get through a set. Give her some time to get the chaos out of her system. Watch the assembly line she’s putting out for anything with real potential, and make a pile that she needs to come back to. Keep talking to her. She’s not tuning you out, alpha. She hears you. Give it some time, and get used to a messy process. She’s still growing into herself.”

“I want to join the Pack, Cas. I can’t make headway as an influence from the outside. This is not what you promised me. I’m not the gardener. She’s not going to see me as alpha until I’m alpha.”

Cas sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across his mouth. Alex hiccupped.

Cain leaned in. “You’re closer to initiating that Primate research pet of yours into the Pack than you are me, Alpha. What’s the holdup? I’ve met all of your demands. I’ve done everything you asked of me, jumped through every hoop.”

Alex stirred and began to fuss softly. Cas shifted him to a more comfortable position and bounced him gently.

“Is it Dean?” Cain asked boldly. “Sir, he’s never going to like me. If you’re waiting for us to become best friends, we’re in for a long wait.”

Alex wrinkled his tiny face and screwed himself up to squall. Dean jogged in from the back. “What’s the holdup, man? Omegas are gonna start eating the furniture.” He noticed the tension, the abandoned tray, and the crying infant. “Um, Alpha? Everything okay? Here, let me take him.” Dean eased the pup away from its Papa and cuddled him close. “You two discussing something important? It smells important.”

“Alpha?” Cain pressed.

Cas picked the tray back up and nodded grimly. “I’ll get back to you. I need to discuss it with Dean. In the meantime, I want you to try supporting April instead of collaring her. You’re not in charge of her direction, Cain. She is.”

Cas delivered the tray to the game room with Dean trailing him to deliver the pup to his source of nutrition. Cas settled into a corner of the couch while Michael nursed the fussy pup, and Dean took a spot between Cas’ knees, leaning back into his chest. Cas had gone pensive, and everyone noticed.

“Discuss what with Dean?” Dean prompted once it was clear the Alpha wasn’t planning to share. Cas didn’t answer him right away. When he did speak, it wasn’t to Dean.

“Kitten, are you winding him up intentionally?”

April looked up, startled. “What? Who?” She seemed baffled, and that said something.

“Alpha Cain,” he answered. “Are you overwhelming him with chaos on purpose? Is it a test?”

Her eyes flattened, and she sighed. She took a bite and spoke with her mouth full. “It’s not a test, Cas. But he’s dead set on shoving me into a tunnel that has no exits, and I’m not going along with it. That’s not what I want.” She swallowed.

“You realize he’s got vastly more experience than you do…”

“I don’t care, Alpha. He’s wrong, and he’s got no business forcing me into a box. He wasn’t hired to be my choreographer. He was hired to find a way to get me to whichever hilltop I’m pointing at.”

“But you’re not pointing at ONE hilltop, Kitten. You’re more like a starfish than a compass. Maybe he has a point.”

“He asked you to intervene, didn’t he? The fucking coward…”

“April Renée, that’s unacceptable. He’s alpha, and you’ll show him respect.”

“Not MY alpha,” she muttered, collecting a final bite and standing awkwardly to waddle out.

“Excuse me?” Cas asked, sitting upright and shifting Dean.

“Well, he’s not. I don’t answer to him, Cas. He answers to me, and I think it’s shit that you’re not backing me up here. Go ahead and add a couple of tally marks to my board because I’m not standing down on this one. Either he’s an employee who obeys his employer, or he’s a Pack alpha. I don’t see his name on the Pack roster, sir, and I’m not going to roll just because his eyes go red.”

Cas huffed angrily, and Dean scooted out of the line of fire, settling on the opposite end of the couch with a wary expression. “I’m not making him Pack just to smooth the road between the two of you,” Cas insisted. “And I’m not getting involved in your spat. I’m simply pointing out what’s got him tangled. April, trying to manage the product you’re putting out would tangle anyone. And if you need to create with no limits for a while, then do that. But don’t expect him to shuffle along behind you making neat little stacks of everything you’re doing. He’s not your maid. And he’s got no idea where your mind is.”

Michael hoisted the pup onto his shoulder to burp him. “Alpha,” he said softly. “The problem is, no one knows exactly WHAT he is. He’s not a maid. He’s not Pack. He’s not in charge. Fine. But what IS he? And why is he still downstairs pacing when we’re all up here talking about him? We need to make a decision. It can’t go on like this.”

“If you make him Pack, Cas…” April warned, but then couldn’t decide what to say. She regrouped. “It’s still MY career, not his. If I fuck it up, I fuck it up. That’s my call. Whatever happens, it’s still my career. I’m not his puppet.”

Cas met her eye and took a moment to process before nodding stiffly. He turned to his husband.

“Dean?”

“You know my opinion, man. I don’t like it. I don’t like him. But we can’t keep going like this. No one knows what’s what; who’s in charge, who calls the shots. I have no doubt that this guy can make her a household name on Broadway, but if she finds that road confining, then it’s not a victory. And he’s shackled, dude. She doesn’t respect him. She doesn’t even listen to him, much less honor his alpha the way she needs to.”

“Thanks a lot, Dean,” April said acerbically. 

Dean looked up at her. “Kid, you don’t have to be a slave to him to give him the respect he deserves. You two can’t communicate because there’s no scaffold set up between you.”

Dean looked back toward Cas and found him grim and pale. “Alpha, you gotta make a choice. He’s either in or he’s out. If he’s in, then we need to make it official, and we need to let him do his job. He’s got a lot of experience, and if he’s saying that she’s shooting herself in the foot, then I think we owe it to the guy to pay attention. There’s gotta be a middle ground that they can walk, but they aren’t going to find it until they’ve got a Claim-bond greasing the way.”

Alex belched into the pause. Cas used hauling himself off the couch to take him from Michal as a chance to think. “Michael,” he asked. “What’s your opinion?”

“It’s a hell of a delicate balance you’re all trying to find,” Michael told him, closing his shirt and standing up to attack the remaining food on the tray. “Dean’s right. You’re not going to strike it without a Claim in place, and your wolf isn’t going to allow a Claim by any alpha who isn’t Pack, sir. You’re stuck. It’s time to make the call. Either he can do Pete some good, or you’re wasting everyone’s time. Personally, I think he’s the right man for the job.”

“April?”

“I don’t see how a Claim is going to help, Alpha,” she told him. “I’m not going to change my mind about what I work on.”

Cas narrowed his eyes and dug deeply inside her, searching for her motivations. He didn’t believe her stubborn stance was pure artistic integrity. It had the feel of a dare to him, but he wasn’t sure she knew that aspect was there. A Claim-bond between her and her manager would at least allow the two of them to communicate more freely. But Cas balked at the idea of watching the man place a Claim on his mate. He wasn’t Pack.

Cas sighed. He had no idea why setting the man’s name into the roster was giving him so much pause. Doing so would stabilize everything. It was what he’d intended from the start. They needed to jump this hurdle if Cain was ever going to be capable of serving as her chaperone and bodyguard, much less her manager. Having him living on the grounds as he was, a veritable rogue alpha, set everyone’s teeth on edge. Castiel had no qualms about the man personally. He was a good man, a solid man, a reliable man.

But was he a Winchester?

It occurred to Cas that as long as Cain remained an outsider, April couldn’t travel far from home without her mate. She was bound to the house; near to him where he could watch over her. And as close as she was to delivering his three babes, she wasn’t going anywhere soon anyway, but Cas doubted his own wolf comprehended that. It wasn’t ready to let her leash out just yet.

Dean rolled his eyes and strode out of the room, pausing in the doorway to beckon Cas with a twitch of his head. Cas followed him into one of the guest rooms and closed the door behind him, still cuddling the pup.

“Look,” said Dean firmly. “If you’re worried about me, I’m fine. I won’t promise to play nice all the time, but I can promise you we won’t kill each other.”

“Dean, what is it about him that you find so unsettling? I trust your instincts. I need to understand if there’s a red flag we haven’t considered.” Cas cradled the baby with one arm and reached toward Dean with the other.

Dean huffed. His face betrayed the multitudes of impolite things he wanted to say, but in the end, his eyes firmed, and he let them all go. “He’s a gay alpha-Sub, C.J. It’s not his fault. He’s not targeting you. He’s not doing anything. And even if he tried that, I trust you, man. I’m not in danger of losing you to him. But, Jesus, Cas, my wolf gets up and paces every time Cain’s in the same room with you. He doesn’t like the guy working with April. Doesn’t want him talking with Michael. Goes fucking out of its mind when he sets those blue eyes on you. Him with his wild silver hair and his perfect blue steel. I wanna plant my fist in his perfect teeth and knock half of them out.”

“You’re possessive?” Cas asked, shocked that Dean was feeling the rub so stridently.

“Sue me.”

“Naming him to the Pack…would that soothe your wolf or make him worse?”

“No fucking clue, Cas. I won’t know until it’s done. But the wait is killing me. At least if he’s Pack, I have some say. Right now, he’s none of my business.”

“We can find another manager,” Cas posed. “If he’s not gelling with April anyway, maybe he’s not the one.”

“No, Cas. I feel like he’s exactly who she needs even if I don’t like it. She’s terrified of succeeding, man, and she’s sabotaging her own success. Not that she knows she’s doing it, but seriously. Take a step back and look at it. They’re all telling us the same thing. She needs to cut the whirling dervish crap and buckle down to work. And in your gut you know they’re right. You’ve got a voice in your head that wants to believe she’s a revolutionary who’s gonna trailblaze a new path that makes all this chaos into a workable career, but your gut knows that’s not true. The truth is, she’s a talented kid who’s too naïve to be making all her own decisions at this point. And if it’s okay for her to flame out and fail spectacularly and then go back to dinking around on the keyboard for her own amusement and stayin’ in the nursery to take care of the pups, then let her do it her way. But if she’s serious about making a career for herself, then she needs to shut up and listen to the experts and follow a workable plan.”

“The workable plan requires adding another alpha to our Pack, Dean,” Cas clarified. “He’ll be third in rank, and it’s a permanent change. Even if he doesn’t continue forever as April’s manager, his position in the pack is irrevocable. Sam and everyone else shifts down a peg.”

“That’s what we’re all sticking on,” Dean agreed. “We wanted to be sure he would make a good manager before we let him into the club, but he can’t prove himself until he’s fully Pack. Catch 22.”

“I’m only concerned about two issues,” Cas told him. “I’m not worried about whether he’s suitable for our family. He’s been vetted hard enough that I’m certain I can mold him into Pack. It’s you, Dean. You and April. You say he’s the right manager for her, and I agree with you. She needs a firm hand, and he can provide that. That’s issue number one. The second is his contentious relationship with my husband.”

“I wouldn’t call it contentious, Cas. I just don’t like him.” Dean took the pup from his husband and wiped his tiny chin with a swipe of his thumb.

“I’m not going to set us up to suffer incessant bickering. Can you live with him in the Pack, Dean? Can you and he make peace?”

“It’d help if he was Mated,” Dean grumbled, still looking at Alex.

“But he’s not, and I’m not going to push him to seek a mate. That would be counterproductive to the commitment I’m seeking from him,” Cas pointed out. “We deal with reality as it is, Dean, not as we would prefer it to be. If it would help, I can promise that you have nothing to fear in reference to me or Michael. You aren’t in jeopardy of either of us taking Cain as a lover.”

“Jesus Christ, C.J.”

“I’m trying to help.”

“Well, you’re sucking at it.”

“Watch your tone.”

Dean lowered his eyes. He kicked at the plush carpeting with socked feet. “You’re holding out for me?”

“You’re extremely important to me,” Cas told him simply. “I know you didn’t appreciate my invitations to Benny and Bobby. I’m not making that mistake again. I would prefer to have your approval if we’re doing this.”

“What about April’s?”

“No, Dean. I respect her opinion, but I’m not waiting on her approval. Hierarchy is real, and she’s ranked last. You, on the other hand, are my second. As often as we can, I’d like for us to stand side by side and move as one. If we can’t do that, I have to give serious consideration to any decision that puts us as odds. And I genuinely don’t want him in the Pack if it’s going to make you unhappy.”

Dean stepped closer, stroking the ample messy hair that made a riot of his son’s head. “Cas, I… I have to say, you kinda surprised me on this one. You know you don’t need my approval.”

“I know,” the Alpha told him intimately. “But I trust your opinion, and this is too big a decision to make without you. This is forever, Dean. We’re talking about family. It’s no less important than a marriage proposal.”

Dean chuckled and nuzzled his cheek along his son’s warm head. “Babe, I’m in. He and I will settle. Maybe we’ll need a scuffle or two, maybe not. I don’t know. If it comes to that, you need to understand I’m not holding back, and I’m not giving up until he rolls belly up. If it turns scrappy, I need to know you’ll let us do whatever we gotta.”

“Jesus, that’s hot,” Cas whispered.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I’m Alpha. I’m allowed.”

“What about Sarah?” Dean asked, backing up before they tripped into something too steamy.

Cas looked at the pup. “You know what I want, Dean. But I don’t know how best to proceed.”

“Yeah, ya do,” countered Dean. “Hell, initiate them both at the same time. Have a ceremony.”

“It’s not a question of how to format the ceremony,” Cas went on. “It’s a far greater question. Do we have any business trying to initiate her at all? She’s not Lupin.”

“Dude, I swear you’re turning more existential every day. You’re gonna go full emo on me here. Get over it. She’s human, isn’t she? So what if she’s Marilyn to your Herman Munster? If we want her and she wants us, viola. Dayenu. Don’t overthink it.”

“Dean, we just agreed that inviting new members into the Pack is a monumental decision.”

“Yeah, but this one’s easy.”

“No, it isn’t. She doesn’t need a Pack,” Cas persisted, committed to wading through every argument against admitting a Primate into a wolf pack. “She’s not an orphan. She’s not destitute. She’s not in need. She HAS a family. Why would she agree to join a Pack?”

Dean laughed. “Why? Because she wants to.”

“Does she?”

“You’re killin’ me, Smalls!”

“Dean.”

“YES! She wants to.”

“If we did this, it wouldn’t be halfway.” Cas sidled in close and shifted back away with Alex in his arms. The pup took hold of the Alpha’s collar and laid his head on Cas’ shoulder, but his grey eyes followed Dean.

“No, I think she gets that, Cas. She’s pretty deep into the _’Dances with Wolves’_ already. She’s just waiting to be invited into the teepee.” Dean watched Cas walk the pup the length of the bedroom and back, soothing him to sleep. He could see the wheels spinning. His eyes tracked Cas, waiting.

Finally, Cas spun decisively on his heel and started to speak.

Dean got there first.

“No Claiming. No hierarchical sex.”

Cas snapped his mouth closed then nodded firmly. “Right,” he agreed. “She can’t process it. It would be destructive to her psyche. No sex.”

“But she would need to agree to Pack discipline,” Dean ticked off.

Cas nodded again. “There’s really no way to allow a waiver there. Either she’s Pack or she’s not. If she’s Pack, she would be expected to show the same obedience the other members show.”

“So, corporal punishment?” Dean asked.

“Yes, to an appropriate degree. We’ll need to research what level of impact she can be expected to respond to. That’s assuming she breaks any rules. It may be moot.”

“She’d rank as a beta-Neutral?” Dean asked.

“That seems reasonable. A beta-Neutral wouldn’t be in a position to trigger any dominance behaviors, allowing the prohibition of hierarchical sex to work seamlessly,” Cas agreed. “Her rank would place her between Kali and Jess, although I would not expect her to discipline lower-ranked Pack members.”

“Oh, so you expect her to follow the rules but not uphold them?”

“Yes.”

Dean stared at his husband a moment then made a resigned face. This was more fun than he’d expected it to be. “She’s single and adult. Rules concerning overnight guests?”

“Nothing too restrictive, but Dean, no one I haven’t approved of steps foot inside our house.”

Dean laughed outright. “You’re gonna do a background check on her hookups?”

“If she plans to bring them here, yes. Besides, Sarah isn’t given to hookups. I expect she’ll date, but we can address that as it evolves.”

“You’re setting her up for a hell of a lotta confusion when she gets hitched. Think of having us for in-laws, man. And that’s on top of her birth pack…uh…family. We’re enough to send would-be suitors running for the hills by ourselves.”

“Dean, anyone who’s coward enough to dump her because they’re afraid of us doesn’t deserve her anyway.”

Dean shot him a look, keyed in to the uniquely _Papa_ tone of that pronouncement and finding it particularly intriguing. That tone would warrant exploring. Was it specific to Castiel’s burgeoning role as a father, or did it have other uses? Clearly, it meant that Cas saw the young woman as a… what? As a what? She was older than Castiel’s mate. Hell, she was older than Dean’s mate. Did Cas see her as a beloved niece? As a daughter? As a ward? Dean had watched Cas step gleefully into the role of mentor, but clearly there was more to the connection. Dean chose to avoid the question for the moment. He shifted topics.

“You know, we can extend her an invite, do up a nice welcome home party. The law prohibits Primates from joining a formal wolf pack though. It won’t be binding.” Dean watched Castiel’s face, and he could tell that Cas had already explored every avenue available to them. Cas had already thought all of it through from top to bottom. That’s what made listing out the parameters fun. It was like peeling layers back and unveiling the brilliance of the Alpha.

“There are precedents,” Cas said vaguely.

“Oh, yeah? Like what? Orphaned ape children don’t count. She’s not an orphan or a child. She’s also not domestically bonded to someone in our Pack. You gonna go for a common-law thing?”

“I’m considering it.”

Dean grinned and wrapped his arms around the man, careful of the pup between them. He kissed Alex’s temple. “You and your projects, man. You’re adorable. Go on, C.J. Go adopt an ape. Don’t be surprised if there’s a spark between her and Jess though. I’m not refereeing that one.”

“We’ll let Sam referee that one,” Cas agreed cheerfully.

“And you might wanna find out how your mate feels about being adoptive mom to a 25-year-old.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cas chided, cuffing Dean’s head playfully. “I’m not planning to try to be her father, just her Alpha. There’s a difference.”

Dean held his eye as the moment ripened. “It’s your call, Alpha. I’ll back you up. I got no real issue with either of them.”

“Thank you, Dean. Your support means everything.”

“C’mon, boss. We’re a team here, you and me.” He slid up close again, breathing the combined scents of his husband and his son. Dean couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to be, with his mate in his head, his husband in his embrace, his pup cradled between two of its parents, and a horizon that promised a Pack constantly growing in strength and prestige. He could even feel April still nestled firmly behind his sternum where his Claim had placed her, the bond showing no signs of needing a renewal. Dean felt embedded in everything strong and right and loving and warm. He’d never been brave enough to trust Castiel as much as he did right now, and Dean wasn’t one to miss the shift. He smiled softly down on Alex then lifted his face for a kiss. “I trust you.”

Castiel’s face was drawn in deep concentration, a look Dean knew well, one that he secretly craved more often than Cas gave it to him. It wasn’t stern. More like focused. And it spoke to Dean underneath their conscious minds.

“I want you beside me when I make both of the proposals to them,” Cas told him with his brow still furrowed. “We’re going to step off on the right foot and present a united front.”

Dean nodded solemnly. “I can’t wait for Cain’s Claim over Michael. We need a betting pool on who Claims who for the first go-round.”

“Whom,” Cas corrected as his thoughtful expression cleared to a less concentrated one and he stepped back. “And, no. We don’t.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I mean it, Pet. Leave it alone. Do not under any circumstances goad your mate into putting up a struggle to see if he can flip the encounter Tertiary.”

“Pet?”

“I will roast your backside if I learn you’ve meddled.”

“Mmm. Yes, Sir, _mon Capitan_.”

“I mean it, Dean Michael.” Cas followed his husband back across the hall.

Dean winked over his shoulder and rejoined the Omegas to tell them the decision.

 

***************

 

Michael huffed explosively and launched the hardback textbook without warning at the far wall of the game room upstairs. April startled in place where she sat on the floor overseeing Alex’s tummy time play. She leaned over instinctively to shield him from the violence and to make both of them smaller targets. She turned wide, outraged eyes on Michael.

“Could you not?” April demanded as the pup caught wind of her alarm and began to fuss. She collected him close to comfort him.

“Sorry,” Michael said sincerely. He sighed apologetically and ran his hands through his hair, getting up to retrieve the offensive book. “It’s this stupid chapter. I swear they make it impenetrable on purpose. I’m never going to pass this test.”

“Good lord, you doofus. You have three experts right under your nose here who would fall all over themselves to tutor you through it. Stop being prideful and go ask for help.” April bounced the pup gently, and he quieted. He took firm hold of a lock of her hair and shoved it hopefully into his mouth. April let her distended belly support his weight. She leaned back and supported herself with an hand on the floor behind her butt. “What’re you studying today, anyway? The Omega stuff shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

He scoffed and rifled through the rumpled pages to get back to the dense passage that had tangled him up three times in a row now. “Says you,” he mumbled dismissively. “It’s the physiological downward spiral of an unsupported Omega that’s confusing me. The way they write it makes no sense. I was _on_ that spiral, Pete, and it didn’t feel like a…” He referenced the book before him, tracing the line with his finger. “…Degeneration of the sympathetic and parasympathetic systems, an increasing interruption in myelin sheath integrity, and a muting of cognition in high arousal situations. I can’t even do flashcards for this crap because I don’t understand it enough to write it down.”

“You’re letting the unfamiliar vocab freak you out,” April told him bracingly. “Go look up each term and then read the section again with your dictionary beside you. And seriously, Michael, Dean will help you. You know he would love to. He’s probably dying to.”

Michael didn’t answer her. April repositioned the baby back on his belly in front of a colorful mat covered with fluffy fabrics he could reach for and mouth. Alex kicked his legs enthusiastically. Michael sat back down at the game table and set his book before him with a determined expression, concentrating hard. It only lasted a moment or two.

“I mean, what’s the point, anyway? I’m not going for a doctorate. I don’t need the medical basis of the weirdness Omegas get into when their butts aren’t roasted every couple of weeks. All I need is what to look for and what to do about it.”

“Michael,” April said tiredly. “Either go talk it through with Dean or buckle down and get through it yourself. Bitching about it isn’t going to make it go away, and it’s not going to stuff it into your head any faster.”

“Accounting at least made sense. This? This is stupid!”

April shook her head at him, leveraged herself awkwardly to her feet and scooped Alex up while still in a squat. She stood up carefully then waddled to the doorway without a backward glance.

“Where are you going?” he asked in surprise.

“Elsewhere,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared.

 

 

 

“What I can’t figure out,” Michael explained to his mate across the kitchen island as Dean readied a cool cucumber soup and a spinach quiche for a Friday night Pack dinner that was, in part, a celebration of Sam’s and Jess’ first anniversary. The meal needed to be perfect. “Is why none of the medical stuff jibes with what it feels like to be going through it. If nerve endings are one of the first things to lose function, why didn’t my fingertips ever feel numb?”

Dean didn’t look up from his cutting board, but he had his thinking face on. Michael could see it in profile.

“Nerves play a much bigger role in the body than just sensation,” he told Michael. “Decreased nerve function usually hits the less observable systems first, meaning that the subject may be totally asymptomatic even while experiencing a severe debilitation of neural function.”

“In English?” Michael prompted, and Dean looked up. His expression clearly said he knew his mate was frustrated, and he felt the need to be careful of his prickly temper. It was a moment that called for patience. Dean tasted the pale green mix in the blender and then set the spoon back on its cradle. He wiped his hands off on his apron, set the oven to heating, and turned to face Michael straight on.

“You can’t always feel it messing with your nerves right away, babe. The first thing that goes is the stuff that coordinates and runs all your organ systems. Like, your liver keeps doing liver things, but it’s not communicating as well with your brain and your digestive system, so it might overproduce bile, leading to jaundice and a whole host of other issues. Your digestion might go wonky. Your endocrine system might get out of whack. All that happens before you can feel anything directly. Where you’re gonna be most aware of its effects is in your brain function. That’s the neural pathways getting fucked up right there. It feels like a fog, right? Like you know the answers to your questions are on the tip of your tongue but there are too many bees in your head to think straight. You’re irritable and irrational. That’s those body systems getting all screwed in themselves from the nerves getting backed up. Your whole body is one big feedback loop. If you’re not secreting the hormone ratios that you need, you can’t think straight. Your skin itches. You can’t drink enough water to kill your thirst. All kinds of stuff goes off kilter.”

Michael frowned at his book as Dean talked him through it.

Dean circled the island to stand beside him. He read over Michael’s shoulder and then chuckled. 

“I know what’s tripping you up. Babe, you never went through _this_ spiral. You were never out of Balance as an Omega. You’re confusing your Tertiary spiral with the Secondary. You wouldn’t have felt like this, Michael. Your Pop had a bunch of fucked up ideas, but he never let your Omega get O.O.B. Even in school you told me they checked all the Omegas monthly, and you never tripped the meter. Michael, you need to forget that you’re Omega while you study this material. It’s messing you up.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Michael slammed the book closed and thumped his head hard onto it where it sat on the counter.

Dean rubbed his back, but he didn’t coddle his mate. He kept his voice steady, not giving in to the pity party Michael was determined to throw. “You can do this, man. Stop the dramatics. Take a break to get your brain back online. Take Portia for a walk. You can carry Alex in the sling. I’m sure April will go with you. But when you get back, we’re gonna hunker down and get this chapter whipped. You hear me? You’re going to read it aloud to me while the quiche bakes, and we’re gonna stop and talk every single bullet point through until you know it like the back of your hand. It’s not stupid, man. It’s necessary that you understand what the body systems are doing if you ever expect to put your hands on someone to help them out of the fog.”

“Why can’t the curriculum be _your_ books?” Michael whined as he let Dean shuffle him off his chair. “Those weren’t impossible to comprehend. They were easy.”

“Because I haven’t written one on the topic of Omega physiology, dude. I’m not a medical doctor. All mine are about behavior and social dynamics.”

“Exactly! And that’s what I wanna be studying, not this bio-interdependent-system-dysfunction crap. I don’t see how it’s relevant. Just show me how to know which paddle to choose.”

Dean took a deep breath and held Michael by the shoulder. Michael’s eyes shifted to gold when he looked at Dean’s face. He realized he’d whined too hard to the wrong person. He’d crossed the last line, and he saw it one moment too late. Dean’s jaw worked soundlessly for a moment and a ruby ring circled his irises. Michael had just poked the wrong bear.

“You know damn well that I didn’t want you on this path in the first place, Omega. And I’ll be damned if you’re gonna make me listen to you bitch and moan that it’s hard. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” Michael said softly, chastised.

“I’ll support you the whole way through, man. I’ll tutor you, drill you, explain whatever you’re having trouble getting straight, but I’m _not_ going to drag you to the finish line. That shit stops here and now.”

“Yes, sir,” Michael repeated.

Dean stepped forward and lifted Michael’s chin with his hand. “You _can_ do this. You just need to get over your mental block that _being_ Omega gives you insight into what’s going on on the microscopic level inside the body of a distressed person. This is not about you directly, Michael. I need you to see that. I need you to step back a little and get some distance emotionally. Don’t live inside it. You can’t help anyone if you can’t maintain a professional distance. You’ll fall apart when they need you the steadiest, and man, that’s not an Omega thing. Falling apart in a crisis happens to anyone who hasn’t learned to put a hold on their emotions when shit gets fucked up.”

“You’re right,” Michael told him, leaning forward and leaving a kiss on the tip of Dean’s nose which earned him a withering look and a slap to his ass. “I’ll take a walk through the back. Where’s Portia?”

“Wherever Cas is, I’m sure,” Dean told him a little petulantly. “Find one, you’ll find the other.” Whether Dean’s tone was due to the puppy’s preference in favorites or Michael’s peevishness, Michael couldn’t tell. He owed Dean an apology, but he was finding it hard to say the words. His frustration at the requirement to learn the minutia of physiology that he was never going to use lingered. He doubted he’d be capable of getting over it, but he was wise enough to digest that bitching about it to the one guy who didn’t want him on this track anyway and who had the power to remove him from the train altogether was a monumentally stupid idea.

“And Michael?”

Michael pulled up in the archway, unsurprised that the lecture wasn’t really over.

“Don’t be so sure that the physiology isn’t relevant. They wouldn’t insist that you learn it if it didn’t make you a stronger therapist. If nothing else, you need to be able to tell when someone’s got crap going on that’s outside a therapist’s wheelhouse so you can get them to someone who can really help. Knowing what that looks like doesn’t mean you’re expected to solve it. It means you’re expected to raise a red flag and get the fuck outta the way before someone dies. If you half-ass your way through every section you don’t find interesting, I’ll put a stop to the whole program. I don’t recommend you test me on this.”

“Jesus H. Christ, alpha,” Michael muttered. “I said you were right already. I’m taking the walk you suggested. Do I need to kiss your feet too?”

“You need to stop thinking only about yourself, man. These are living people you’re studying about, and when you start your hands-on rounds next semester, they matter more than you do while you’re working. If you’re only doing this to buy yourself a chance to get up on the stage with me at convention, someone’s gonna fall through a crack you were too busy showboating to seal up. I know what you fantasize about, Michael. I know what your endgame is. It’s terrifying enough watching you take a public job out in the real world where the crazies can see and touch you, but don’t ask me to stand by and watch you bullshit your way into a job where a halfhearted effort means someone’s life. You think about that while you’re on your walk. If you come back here and tell me you’re truly in this for the good of our people, then I’ll help you get there even if it kills me. But if you keep up the playacting, the whining, the constant attempts to wheedle your way out of the hard parts… I’ve had it, Michael Quentin. You don’t earn the spotlight and the acclaim without putting the work in. Make a choice, Omega. Make it today.”

Michael was speechless, but Dean turned his back on his mate and dumped another handful of cubed cucumbers into the blender before pouring in a hefty portion of heavy cream. Michael lowered his head and left the archway with a muted air. He was angry and incensed, but shooting defensively back wasn’t going to win Dean over, and Michael needed to think. Was Dean right? Was Michael going blithely through the motions expecting to pull high enough grades to pass by cramming before each test but not truly absorbing the material? Didn’t every student do that?

Dean had been right about the puppy. Portia was curled up at Castiel’s feet in the conservatory while Cas and Alex listened to April’s newest sonata. The image struck an instant pang of envy in Michael. He wasn’t jealous exactly that his son had a happy homelife to look forward to, but Michael knew, even if he would have been too young to remember, that he’d never enjoyed a moment like this in his own upbringing, and watching Alex snuggling comfortably in his Papa’s arms was a little painful. Just a little. Michael’s mother probably cradled him like this when he was little, but his Pop hadn’t. Not like this. Not like it was a joy to be touching and to listen to the same sounds, breathe the same air, share the same light; like being a father was the most rewarding role imaginable.

Cas looked up as Michael crept in holding Portia’s leash.

“Ah, good idea,” said Cas softly. “I’ll come with you.”

“You sure, Alpha? I was planning to ask Pete.”

“Oh,” said Cas in surprise, clearly unsure if his offer was an unwelcome interference in Michael’s alone time with April. He looked back and forth between them as his mate continued to play. “Um.”

April spoke over the sound of her music without looking round. “You two go on. I need to work out a rough spot. It’s got a catch in it.”

 

 

 

They walked in silence to the edge of the trees. Portia struggled to accept the leash in her own backyard where she was frequently allowed to play freely, but she was in the middle of leash-training, and the walk was more about teaching her obedience than providing her exercise.

“How is the studying going?” Castiel asked once they reached the tree line. He hissed softly and corrected the puppy’s gait.

Michael shrugged. He had a hand supporting Alex’s tiny bum in the sling around his shoulder even though he knew there was little chance of the pup slipping. Alex watched the light flashing merrily through the leaves above him and dancing across his O-Pop’s face, and he was enthralled.

“Tough section?” Cas guessed.

“I don’t understand the anatomy and physiology stuff. It’s Greek to me. And even if I memorize it well enough to get through the test, there’s no way I’ll retain any of this later when I’m hands on.”

“Mm,” Cas hummed. “That’s a common concern for people at the beginning of their careers. And it’s largely true. The thing is, learning it the first time is the hardest part. After that, you’ll forget and relearn the same information again and again, and each time it gets easier. It’s far easier to relearn something you once knew that to learn something from scratch.”

“What was Dean like as a student? If it’s all right for me to ask.”

Cas laughed and corrected the puppy again. “Ah. I see. Your mate’s standards are higher than you anticipated?”

“He thinks I’m half-assing my work. He thinks I’m only in it for the glory of the stage.”

Cas nodded sagely. “It seems to me that a True-mate may be the only person alive who’s in a position to try to name your motivations to you. Is he right?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Michael.”

“No! I’m frustrated at having to wade through dense shit I don’t think I’ll ever use. But if you and he tell me I’m gonna need it, I believe you. You two know better than my teachers do whether it’s relevant or not. It just feels like he’s measuring me against an impossible standard, and I’m never gonna be good enough.”

Alex wiggled uncomfortably in the sling and Michael stopped to readjust and to bring his emotions back down to keep the pup from fussing.

Cas picked up in the pause. “I see how it might look that way from your position, but Dean… Michael, he’s not trying to dampen your spirit. You aren’t insufficient to him. It’s just that…” He took a moment to work it through. “Dean has seen firsthand the very worst cases imaginable for Omegas. And he’s scared. He’s scared of having you close to that, scared that it’s somehow contagious, scared that you’re going to begin to carry the weight of bearing witness, the same weight Dean carries. He’s scared about what it’s going to do to you, Michael. He’s worried that if you don’t commit to it for the right reasons, you’re at risk of being damaged when you see how bad it can really get in the trenches. And that’s on top of his fear that you’re going to be a focal point for the opposition activists.”

“He just reamed me for not keeping my own emotions separated from my studies. How is it fair if he’s acting out of fear himself?”

“It’s not really fair, is it? I suspect he feels that girding you for battle by hardening you before you get there is a way of protecting you.”

“And he was an excellent student himself, wasn’t he?”

Cas shot Michael a weighted look.

“He was?” the Omega insisted, and Cas chuckled softly.

“He was the brightest and most diligent student I ever taught,” Cas admitted. “Living up to that standard isn’t required though, Michael. All you have to do is your best. It’ll be enough, I promise you. The job of a Secondary therapist is a rigorous one, but you’re capable of flourishing in that role. You are plenty bright yourself. You are Dean’s True-mate after all. Surely you realize that means you’re not insufficient to match him. You two aren’t identical, but I’ve yet to see a TM pairing in which one mate was a virtuoso and the other a dullard.”

“How do I convince him I’m serious about this plan?”

Cas stopped and turned to face him. He lowered his chin and tilted his head a bit. “By getting serious about it.”

“Cas…”

“Work diligently. Ask for help when you’re stumped. Take the breaks you need and don’t neglect your body or your son. I would point out that in this house, it needn’t ever have come to the point that you became distraught over learning Omega physiology without at least _asking_ me to help you. If you’re truly serious about this path, then you would be using _every_ resource available to you that might help. No one ever said you only win points if you do it alone. And I can promise you that no Omega who reaches out to you for assistance is going to care what it took for you to gain the expertise to help them.”

Michael sighed heavily. He rubbed both eyes in a way that might have signaled wiping away excess moisture. He was obviously very frustrated. But his eyes when he looked up again were clear. He nodded. He fell in with Cas when the Alpha resumed walking.

“You’ve a long road ahead of you, Michael, and few Omegas make it the whole way. There are hundreds of valid reasons they drop out or never sign up in the first place, but none of those reasons apply to you. Your only hindrance is yourself. And while there’s nothing wrong with the goal of joining Dean in the limelight onstage, that cannot be the primary goal. I suspect that up to now, it has been. I would advise that if you find your motivations have been ill-directed, you make a course correction from today, Omega, and re-envision your goal. There’s room in it for a stage and bright lights, but don’t let the lights blind you. There’s a far greater purpose to your calling, if that’s what you determine this is.”

“Sir, I… don’t know what to say. I want both. But all he sees is a showoff. Dean’s pretty steamed at me.”

“Dean takes the rehabilitation of distressed Omegas very seriously,” Cas reminded him. “It’s a personal crusade to him. It always has been. You’re unlikely to find him sympathetic to a juvenile tantrum over the relevance of a difficult passage in a textbook.”

“Is that what this is?” Michael posed carefully, stepping back internally to try to view his frustration from another angle.

“That’s not for me to say,” said Cas. “Although, having experienced many, many student reactions to difficult passages, I will say that it bears those hallmarks.”

Michael scoffed quietly. He would have preferred for Cas to go ahead and call the spade what it was than try to shimmy him into the revelation himself.

“Comprehension of your course materials has always come easily to you before this, Michael,” Cas went on softly, gently. “You’re unaccustomed to having to work for it. You have to decide if you want this role badly enough to put the effort in in a way you’ve never needed to do before.”

They broke through the trees again, into the sunlight, in full view of the house, and Michael stopped walking, his eyes sharp on the eaves at the top of the hill. His son was fast asleep against his chest, lulled by his parents’ voices. Cas stopped as well and knelt to unhook Portia’s leash so she could play the rest of the way home. She bolted for a squirrel on the lawn. Both men watched her go.

“I do want it, Alpha. I’ve seen what you all do for people. I’ve experienced it firsthand, and I want to be a part of that.”

“You will be a valuable member of the team once you’ve been certified, Michael. You bring a wealth of experience and perspective to the role that betas and alphas lack. We will be lucky to have you.”

“You mean that?”

Cas looked surprised. “I do. You should know me well enough by now to know I don’t speak in meaningless niceties.”

“And you don’t mind helping me through the anatomy and phys sections?”

Cas chuckled darkly. “It would be an honor.”

“That sounds ominous,” Michael observed as he set back out toward the top of the hill. “This is why I didn’t ask you in the first place. You’re going to turn it into some form of torture session, aren’t you?”

“Would I do that?” Cas teased. He shifted tones before Michael could respond. “Balancing your studies will be far more difficult in a couple of weeks when the triplets arrive. We need to try to push through whatever section has you stumped before April gives birth. Are you game to put in some extra time with me?”

“Well, I can’t let you work harder on my certification than I do, can I?” Michael answered grimly.

“No, that would be inappropriate.”

“Thanks, Castiel.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Guess I better get up there and face Dean, let him know I’m ready to buckle down. He’s going to make me put it all away before we eat so we can focus on Sam and Jess. He’s making them a special meal that’s got Sam Winchester written all over it. He’s going to want me to make good progress before then. There’s not enough hours in the day.”

Cas hummed fervent agreement. Portia jumped fruitlessly against the trunk of the live oak as the squirrel teased mercilessly from its perch several feet higher than the puppy could jump, its tail twitching aggressively.

“Michael, tonight at dinner, Dean and I are going to put the formal invitations to Sarah and Cain to join the Pack as full active members. I expect both of them to accept. April may struggle to adjust to having Cain’s status shift. I fully expect her to act out in protest for some time. Will you commit to helping her through this difficult transition without undercutting the job Cain has to do? Can you help me with this? Do I have your support?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to be her authority figure. I can be an ear for her to vent to. I expected that much. She’s pretty upset.”

“Yes, I agree. She’ll need someone to unburden herself to, someone who isn’t obligated to hold her accountable to the words she selects when all she needs is to blow off steam. But Michael, I’m asking that you not feed into any counterproductive protests she may mount. This change will be much more difficult if the Pack divides itself into factions. It’s important that we are all united in supporting Cain’s authority.”

Michael glanced across him, reading the Alpha’s expression. “The Omegas aren’t going to throw a coup, Alpha. I know she needs a new set of reins. She’s not going to like it. I’ll be there for her to lean on, but I won’t cut his legs off.”

“Dean believes she’s deliberately sabotaging herself.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too. I don’t think it’s deliberate though. I think it’s Omega. I think it’s a Secondary discombobulation. She’s extreme as an Omega, and she stumbles when things get complex. It looks to me like something she needs managed for her, but she’s embarrassed that she can’t handle it herself, so she’s getting defensive. Once the roles are redefined and the day to day directional management isn’t in her hands anymore, she’ll feel tons better. She’ll be able to focus again. That’s what Nick did for her; why she was able to keep all her attention on one project while she wrote for his show. He didn’t let her do anything else. She loved it, and she wrote brilliant music.”

Cas nodded solemnly. He patted his thigh to summon the puppy back as the two men came abreast of the tree. “Your perspective seems especially unbiased, Michael; much more so than mine or Dean’s. I wonder if I can also count on you to help us keep an eye on Cain to prevent him steamrolling her to his preferences at the expense of April’s. I suspect you would do that even without my request.”

“I’m not going to let anyone turn her into something she doesn’t want to be, Alpha. Watching out for Pete is a primary role for me.”

“That’s what I thought. You and me, both. And insofar as you and I have already found balance in our mutual oversight of Dean, I need you to understand that I’m not blind to the necessity that we must set up a construct to share April’s management as well. It’ll be different, I know, than what we’re doing for your mate, but no less critical that we work as a team.”

“She needs me, Castiel. And I need her.”

“I know. It’s been hard to adjust, but I won’t hinder your relationship more than I must. I ask that you make me the same promise.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Feels like we’re finally settling down. I don’t feel like you’re seconds away from ripping my throat out anymore. Feels like we need a pinkie-swear or something to seal the pact.”

Cas laughed easily. “I think we can trust one another without involving our pinkies. I’m grateful to you, Michael. None of this has been easy for you, and you’ve adjusted beautifully. You are good for April. You’re good for all of us, but I’ve grown to rely on you to keep an eye on her, and I need you to know that I value what you have to offer her. Go on in and let Dean have his say about your study habits. You and I can work on physiology tomorrow. I’ve got Dean tonight, so you can expect both of us to sleep late in the morning. Do you want me to take Alex? Smells like he needs a diaper change.”

“I’ve got him. Thanks, Cas. I think I’m going to need to use him for armor when I get to the kitchen.”

Cas chuckled again. He squatted down to scratch Portia’s ears for a moment before opening the gate to her outdoor run and letting her in where her water bowl beckoned. “If you sleep with her tonight,” Cas added. “Remember to keep her off her back. You’d do best to go at it side by side.”

Michael huffed softly. “Yes, Alpha. I know. I’ve been right there with her the whole way through this pregnancy just like you have.”

Cas nodded, resigned. Not offended. “It’s just a reminder, Michael. I worry about her every moment I can’t see her. I’m on edge. She and Dean both prefer me to close the bond whenever I’m scening with the other. I don’t like the blindness that comes with that – not right now.”

Michael stretched a hand out to pull the Alpha back to his feet. He kept hold of the solid warmth once Cas was upright. He reached out from inside through the narrow lane of the Claim Cas held over him, and he sent assurance. “Sir, you don’t ever have to worry about her safety when she’s with me. I’m never going to let her get hurt. I’m never going to hurt her.”

Cas used the grip between their palms to pull Michael in for an embrace. He broke away with a brilliant smile, and Michael couldn’t stop himself from grinning back. The Alpha’s happiness was contagious, and his trust made Michael inexplicably determined to be the man Dean wanted him to be. How was this sensation happening? A promise to watch over April soothed Cas back to a state of bliss, and that drove Michael to resolve to better himself for Dean. The intricate lines of connection each tugged separately and in concert. Michael snickered and let Cas wrap an arm over his shoulder and lead him back inside.

Whatever.

Michael didn’t need to understand it all to accept the stability those interconnections set under his feet. He left Cas in the foyer, peeling off to change Alex and get his head into a penitent tone to face Dean again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to AO3 on the Hugo award! It belongs to every contributor, be they reader/commenter, poster of original works, volunteer, or donor of necessary funding. AO3's platform design is uniquely egalitarian, making it accessible to all of us, and making it a magnificent place for writers and artists to encourage one another to greatness. This is a phenomenal achievement that legitimizes fanworks in a way we've never seen before. I am giddy with joy that AO3 won. Holy shit.


	4. June 6 - 10, 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of new arrivals and a new kind of normal to get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the end for spoilerish warnings.

 

 

With his cellphone to his ear, Cas rattled off a litany of instructions with military precision from the passenger side of Baby’s front bench as Dean pulled the massive car up the curving gravel drive to the house. God, it was hot out. Baby’s A/C was working overtime to keep the heat beat back to a modest swelter. They’d settled on a compromise that included letting Cas clear out his to-do list by phone rather than in person in order to get him home from the airport as quickly as possible, but it was a compromise Dean had to live with if he didn’t want Cas barricaded in his office at work. Dayton hadn’t been ready to relinquish the Alpha yet. He had more on his plate than he’d been able to wade through. But April’s posterior cervix had begun to show signs of ripening, and her contractions were shifting from the irregular painless pre-labor Braxton-hicks to something with a slow pulse and a deepening bite.

Cas had made his apologies to those in Ohio he hadn’t squeezed in, but he needed to be home. Dean needed him as much as April did, possibly more.

“Who’s car is that?” Dean wondered out loud as he pulled into the garage and passed the shiny red roadster parked out front. “You expecting someone?”

“Just a moment, Jonathon,” Cas said into his phone. “No, Dean. I’m not. Isn’t that Chuck’s car?”

“Oh! Shit! It is! It is, Cas! You don’t think?” Dean squealed the tires with the force of his braking, slammed her into park, and left Cas sitting flummoxed in the passenger side, his mouth agape. Dean vaulted through the door into the kitchen, looking for the visitor. Chuck stood from a wide soft chair in the parlor as Dean came in breathless. The beta grinned a knowing look at him and nodded toward the dense square cardboard box on the coffee table in front of him. 

Dean attacked it, skating to his knees and ripping at the cardboard with enthusiasm. “You said it would be three more weeks!” Dean told his publisher.

“I exaggerated slightly,” Chuck admitted. “Sometimes there are delays. Better to be surprised early than made to wait.”

Dean tuned him out as he flung packing peanuts all over the floor and wrapped a hand around the topmost copy of his book. The cover, a professional and elegant image of five Omega models, each a different age and representing the five levels of Omega post-Presentation life cycle stages, shone in glossy perfection. It was beautiful. Dean’s name at the bottom, _alpha Dean M. Winchester, PhD,_ stood out boldly against the image as it blurred into vagueness at the edge. It was a textbook, not a novel, but it felt to Dean like a newborn pup, and he caressed it with his thumbs as Castiel strolled in behind him.

“Chuck,” said Cas cheerfully. He’d clearly ended his call and pocketed his phone. He stretched to shake the man’s hand. “It appears I’m home just in time for more than one new arrival. It wasn’t necessary to drive all the way out yourself.”

“Bite your tongue, man,” Dean told him without tearing his eyes off the book. “It’s the least he could do considering the number of copies it’s pre-sold. Damn, would you just look at it? It’s fucking perfect!”

Cas leaned over and kissed Dean’s forehead affectionately, accepting the copy that Dean slapped into his palm with a happy chuckle. “I’m exceedingly proud of you, Pet,” Cas said into his ear, tickling the hairs inside and sending a shiver down Dean’s spine.

Every damn time.

Dean leaned his head against Cas’ thigh in a quick acknowledgment and continued to ogle the front cover, vest buttons bursting in paternal pride.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Chuck prodded. “I mean, nothing’s changed since you signed off on the design, but I figured you’d at least want to check it over. Distribution starts next week. All the shipments are set to arrive in time for the educators to read through and set up the syllabus before the semester starts. You’re set to be the core curriculum at over twenty universities this year, Dean. Twelve of those are starting new degree programs this year with your books as the basis.”

“Holy fuck,” muttered Dean. He set the book on the coffee table and flipped it open. He let it fall open to a random page and perused the chapter summary it settled on. Discussion and thought questions filled the left page while a full chapter outline with alternate suggested readings and sources covered the right. The page was thick and shiny, full of promise and hearty enough to last for years of reselling. Chuck had kept his word about not skimping on materials. Dean didn’t doubt he expected to make up for it in the price he charged through his distributors. But Dean could do little to stop the inflation of price. He didn’t have that kind of pull, much as he wanted to sell the book at enormous discount and get a copy of it into the hands of every Junior in college, even the Marketing majors.

Michael came in with April leaning heavily on his arm. “I thought I recognized that Porsche,” he said happily. “It’s here?”

“Come look, Michael!” Dean called. “It’s gorgeous! Look what we did!”

Michael grinned at his mate’s enthusiasm, joining him on his knees in front of the box and pulling his own copy free. “What _you_ did. It’s your baby, alpha. All I did was rearrange the outline.”

Cas helped April into a chair near the table, and he handed a copy to her before taking a spot on the arm and leaning over her to look at the book while submerging into her scent. April opened it across her lap, what little of her lap she still had access to. She flipped through the pages, focusing mostly on the pictures and the graphs, letting the beauty of the images tease at the story inside them.

Castiel’s lips touched her hair then wandered down to the back of her neck.

“You helped plenty, man,” Dean told him, giddy with joy. “Did you see the dedication? It’s right up front.”

“I…What dedication?” Michael looked up at Dean and then across at Cas and April, at Chuck. He felt a blush rise from the back of his neck to cover his cheeks, turning them ruddy in the sunlight streaming through the front windows.

Dean leaned across and flipped the pages before him, rifling past the cover page and the stark blank first filler to find a single sheet with wording centered, bold, in italics:

_”The gravest error we commit as a people is to underestimate the vastness of power that resides inside the Omega. It is through him and only through him that our people persist, and he will prove our savior ultimately.” - Alfonse Pelios (1868 – 1937)_

_To Michael, who brought order from my chaos, strength from my helplessness, light from my darkness. You have my heart, Omega, and my gratitude, forever._

“Why, Dean?” Michael asked, his eyes glued to the words. “You did all the research before you ever met me. It was Cas, not me, who…”

Dean pulled Michael to him. “You don’t get to tell me who to dedicate a book to, mister,” he teased. “If I wanna say thanks, I’ll say thanks. The proper response is ‘you’re welcome’.”

“Yes, but…”

“Shh,” Dean cut him off. “You helped with way more than just the outline. You and your overwhelming wolf dragged me to the deepest part of my Tertiary and pinned me there. For months. Made me learn a whole new way to access myself. Made me fight for it. Taught me I have the power to do that. That wasn’t Cas, Michael. That was you. I wouldn’t be the guy I am now if I hadn’t Mated you. And I kinda like who I am now. So shut up and let me dedicate a book to you.”

“Thank you, Dean. I love it.”

“Atta boy.”

The monitor in Michael’s pocket crackled to life. Alex usually woke up angry, and this morning was no exception. His squalls hit maximum volume in a matter of seconds, and Michael left a kiss on Dean’s cheek as he stood up and jogged out of the room.

Chuck picked back up. It really was a business meeting after all. “We’ve sent you the links to the final online version this morning if you want to check that out, but we’re happy to say pre-sales of the physical copy have already surpassed our estimates. Looks like folks still want a solid book in their hands, just like you predicted, alpha. You were right about that.” He paused a minute to let Dean page randomly through. “So, I take it the final copy meets with your approval?”

“You did a bang-up job as usual, Shurley,” Dean told him sincerely. “You never disappoint.”

“You’ll stay for lunch,” Cas put in without lifting his head free of the aura of his pregnant mate. “We should celebrate.”

Chuck stood up and smoothed his slacks nervously. The Alpha hadn’t stated it as a question. “I really can’t. Publishing is a mile-a-minute kind of business this time of year, and I can’t be away that long. But I wanted to see Dean’s face when he got a look at it for the first time. Needed to be sure we’d done it right.”

“Yeah. Goddamn, it’s pretty,” Dean told Chuck as he stood up and turned a handshake into a tight hug, leaving the beta awkward as usual. “Your folks did great. You go tell them I said thanks, and I’ll spring for a celebratory cocktail party to prove my appreciation. Set them up for something fun, and send the bill to Cas.”

“I’ll pick an evening you can come tell them yourself, alpha,” Chuck suggested hopefully. “They worked so hard on this project. They’re going to want to see you in person.” Chuck accompanied Dean toward the door as Fred appeared with Chuck’s driving gloves, sunglasses, and keys on a tray.

“We’ll see,” Dean replied vaguely. “You’re not going to get me drunk and sign me for another project, are you? I’m tapped out for now, man.”

“What?” Chuck laughed nervously. This Dean wasn’t the one he knew how to manipulate. This was a whole different Dean. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Hehe. I mean, the subject might come up, right?”

“No more books for a few years, Chuck. I gotta focus on raising pups. Give it four years. Get ‘em all walking, talking, and pooping where it can be flushed, and then we’ll talk.”

“Four years?! You can’t be serious!”

Dean opened the door for him and ushered him to the porch.

“Four years, minimum, Chuck. I need more material anyway before I have anything new to say, and we don’t have the studies complete yet for a sequel. Leave it alone. Don’t make me sic Cas on you. I’m not the only Omega expert in the field.”

“No. But you’re the best,” Chuck grumbled under his breath. “You know, I set my profit projections on you doing another textbook next year; one for graduating seniors.”

“Thanks for coming by, man,” Dean said. “You did a fantastic job.”

“Dean, could we at least table the decision for six months or so? Once the triplets are sleeping through the night…”

“Goodbye, Chuck.” Dean closed the door on a man still primed for one more attempt, and he turned his back on it grinning stupidly at Fred who had Michael’s copy in his hands and a look of pride on his face.

“Well?” Dean asked him.

“You’ve done it again, alpha. May I borrow this one? I’m riveted just from the introduction.”

“It’s yours, Fred. Keep it.”

“Thank you, Dean. I wonder if you would sign it for me.”

“Be happy to.”

 

 

 

Michael didn’t come back downstairs. He was caught up in pup-care, and Dean could feel him at peace. Dean scooped the box of textbooks off the table and took them with him into Michael’s office where Dean had set up shop for the week. Dean missed teaching classes, but he loved one facet of his new role: it allowed him to work from home when he needed to stay close to the Pack. April’s impending labor set everyone on alert. Over this last week, much of the Pack only left the house when they needed to, the nesting instinct getting its teeth into almost everyone. Cas had had no choice but to keep his commitment in Dayton, but he hadn’t hesitated a moment in calling it short after Missouri’s last update on his mate’s condition.

Sam and Benny were holding down the fort at The Facility. Ellen had the contact tree organized. Charlie was in charge of redistributing work as soon as April went into active labor, freeing Cas and Dean both to focus on family. Missouri stopped in every three days for a checkup. April was weathering the final weeks like a champ. She was physically miserable, but she’d adopted a sanguine maternal air that was part Pollyanna and part Madonna – the saint, not the pop-culture icon. She carried with her a carefully fostered elegance – a gentle smiling grace – that was far less outgoing than her prior self. Castiel couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t keep his hands off her, never wanted to leave her for the dullness of daily work. She had blossomed into everything holy and wholesome. She didn’t complain about the multitude of pains she endured. She simply endured.

Michael hovered, Alex in tow, wherever she went. He sat with her in the conservatory while she fiddled with compositions long finished to draw her attention from the strain in her lower half. He knelt before her in the parlor, rubbing her swollen feet while she tried unsuccessfully to read his textbooks to him. He supported her carefully while she braved walks down the back lawn in late afternoon, keeping the blood moving in her legs and praying daily she could continue to avoid the miserable bedrest he’d been forced to bear for weeks.

And as workdays came to a close, Michael silently handed her back off to Cas, a look of camaraderie passing between them as they crossed paths and traded roles. Cas kept her fed and bathed, massaged and comforted. He succored her sore body to ease everything that ached, wearing his hands into stiffness every night to help her sleep by any means he could find. She was exhausted, her body beginning to consume itself in the final weeks before the triplets emerged, consuming everything it could spare to perfect the wee bodies kept warm and harbored inside her. Her eyes sank deeply into the flesh of her face. Her cheeks paled. Her hands quivered.

She was ravishingly beautiful in her suffering, and she had only days remaining that she needed to weather before she could rest for a bit and let the others take some of the strain.

Cas felt it coming before April told him, intensely focused on her body as he was. The contractions across her lower back hurt now. No one but Cas was in the room to hear her moan softly and curl around herself on the side of the bathtub. He went swiftly to her and wrapped an arm around her lower back, lifting her carefully to her feet and walking her to their bed.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “You’re safe, Kitten. You can do this. We’re going to do it together.”

April looked up into his eyes in alarm. “She’s dropping, Castiel. I can feel it. Missouri said the two in front need to come out first or they’ll all get stuck in the birth canal. But I can feel Zebedee sliding lower at my back. It hurts, Cas! My back aches.”

“Don’t panic, April. You’re going to be fine. The pups are fine. It’s normal for the backdoor pup to drop first. She’ll come out last. She’s just getting into position. She rode high for the whole pregnancy, but you’ll need your lungs and your diaphragm for good pushing later. Nature’s cleared her out of the way for that. Here, sit up and let me rub your back.”

“Call Missouri, Cas. Please. I’m scared.”

Her optimistic exterior evaporated as April felt the first true pangs of labor biting into her lower back coupled with an unpleasant sensation of the pup at her spine shifting downward. She shed the Madonna façade like a cloak falling to the floor, and she clung to her mate’s arm, searching his eyes for signs he was hiding worry from her.

He wasn’t.

He was terrified. But he wasn’t worried. He was taking stock of every sensation she experienced as she felt it, and the part of his brain that was trained to stay professional through a medical emergency was chill as fuck. She was fine. The pups were fine. And he was terrified out of his mind. The split seemed to soothe April as it seemed utterly human, not mechanical as he tended to get when stressed. She huffed hard through her nose as the clench across her back spread round to her belly, and she groaned. She watched Castiel’s eyes through the contraction, comforted by what she saw there.

Dean appeared in the bedroom doorway, summoned, no doubt, by the tension in his husband’s bonds. The two alphas could feel each other deeply now, after the wedding, after the Claiming that shocked even their own species in its brutality. Dean clutched both sides of the doorframe, his eyes wide.

“For real?” he asked. “You ready to call the doc?”

Cas nodded, leaning back against the headboard and easing April down to rest on his chest. “Don’t bring her here yet, Dean. Just let her know we’re starting. Have Fred ready a pitcher of ice water and some unbuttered toast. Don’t call Ellen. I don’t want to disrupt work yet. Notifications can wait for a bit. Go ahead and text Sam though. We have hours ahead of us. Send Michael up.”

“On it,” Dean told him. He offered a soft smile for his girl, and he vanished.

“Don’t let them forget about Alex,” April said through clenched teeth. If this was early labor, the thought of the hours ahead made her head swim in dread.

Cas chuckled. “No one’s going to forget Alex.”

The pain eased as swiftly as it had come, and April relaxed into her mate’s warm body. “Just think,” said Cas. “In another eight weeks your show will open on Broadway, and you’ll be a household name. We’ll have a houseful of hollering pups. The final transitional steps to the merger will be complete, and you and I will slip away for a week to Mali for our next cycle together. Just you and me, Kitten. We’ll leave everything behind for a week and then we’ll come back and take over to let Michael and Dean do the same. Can you picture it?”

She shook her head. “I can’t see past the next twelve hours, Alpha.”

“That’s okay, love. This time right now is important. You’re right. Let’s focus. You don’t need a distraction, do you?” Cas babbled away into her ear, his hands in constant motion on her body. Michael slipped in and sprawled out beside her on his belly with his head near her feet and set to rubbing her calves with firm strokes, braced up on his elbows. 

“Is everything ready, Michael?” Cas asked him.

“Everything’s handled, sir. Jess has Alex with the twins. She and Kali are going to take turns minding the pups. Tony’s been notified that the house is open for visitors and we need a constant spread. Dean’s on the phone with Missouri. He’ll contact Dr. Leahy next, but Eileen probably won’t come until the first babe is crowning. We don’t need a pediatrician before there are pups, after all. Meg is arranging coverage for the clinic so she can come help out. Everything’s ready.”

“We aren’t going to need the contact tree,” Cas observed. “There’s enough bustling about that word’s going to spread on its own.”

Michael sat up and dug his phone from his pocket. “Pete, do you want to try to talk to your folks, or do you want me to do it?”

“I can do it,” she decided, pushing herself upward a little and reaching for the phone once Michael set it to ringing. April put it on speaker and stumbled uncomfortably through alerting her parents of the imminent arrival of three more grands. Kathleen barely registered the words before promising to get there with all possible haste and disappearing from the line. April laughed at the dead connection, a touch of hysteria in her throat.

“I hope it’s not another false labor,” she said softly. “My parents are on their way.”

Cas kissed the side of her throat. “It’s not,” he told her. “It’s time.”

Fred delivered a steeping pot of tea with dry toast and a silver pitcher of cold water. He delivered the tray pointedly to April, smiling softly for her. “Be sure to ask me for anything you want or need, Omega,” he said gravely. “Anything at all.”

“Thank you, Fred. I will. Would you please choose a room for my parents and get it ready? They’re flying in on the first available plane.”

“Yes, of course. I will contact them myself to arrange travel from the airport and see that they arrive safely.” His carriage, as always, spoke of reliability and strength. He turned his attention fractionally higher and addressed Cas. “Alpha?”

“See if Andrea is free to join us, Fred,” Cas instructed. “Arrange for Gabe to go get her if she needs a ride. Make sure he takes the Lexus. It’s already adjusted for car seats.”

“Yes, sir. Right away. I assume Alpha Benedict will be joining us this evening?”

“That’s what I’m expecting. Having his mate and daughters here already will ease his mind about split loyalties.” Cas felt the contraction as it began to grip April and set her teeth grinding. His hands wrapped her waist, his thumbs digging hard into the tight skin of her hips and back. “We’ll be coming downstairs in a little while, Fred. I’d like to see if April can doze a bit first.”

“Huh,” scoffed April. “Fat chance. You think I can sleep at a time like this?” She clutched at Michael’s hand, and he let her squeeze it hard.

“Pete, you’re just getting started. Rest as much as you can. You’re going to need all the strength you can save up. Curl over on your side, and I’ll lay down with you.”

“Yes, Michael,” she said as the contraction passed. She shifted lower and slipped out from between Castiel’s legs to stretch out.

“You should rest too, Alpha,” Michael advised. “A short nap, maybe.”

“No, I can’t, Michael. I need to close up a few things that are hanging. You two rest. I’ll be right back. I won’t be long. Promise.” Cas leaned low and kissed April’s temple and then her lips. One long, meaningful look into her baby blue eyes, and then he extricated himself carefully and ushered Fred out with him to batten hatches down securely and prepare the rigging for the storm to come.

The kitchen was abuzz with activity already, and Cas nearly tripped over young Benjamin in the archway.

“Here, now!” he called as the boy skirted around him with a pile of towels in his arms. “Where are you going? Ben?”

“Gotta see to all the bathrooms, Sir,” Ben called over his shoulder. “Alpha’s orders!”

Cas turned in dismay to find Dean in the center of a hurricane of activity, doling out tasks, and calmly checking items off his list. “What’s all this?” Cas asked. “How many people are you expecting to crash the house for a birthing?”

“Are you kidding, Cas?” Dean said without looking up from his clipboard. “Everyone. We’ll be wall-to-wall people in two hours, tops. I’m assigning guest rooms as far as I can figure, but we may have need of more than the house can hold. I sent Monique and Eunice down to get the Guest house situated.”

Castiel looked about him in confusion, watching Lisa discussing the menu plan with Tony. Cas frowned. “Dean, I never authorized overnight guests except for the Andersons. Who else is coming?”

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, ticking off on his fingers. “Most of the Lafittes. The Lancets are boarding in an hour. Cain’s coming back early from Los Angeles. Nick will be here before morning. Who knows who else he’s dragging along. I told him to come without an entourage, but he never travels solo. That right there is enough to fill most of our guest rooms. I doubt that’s everyone though. We might end up hosting half The Facility. And you know Naomi will want to come sit vigil as well.”

“We expected a houseful,” Cas admitted. “But I didn’t expect them all to _stay_ here.”

Dean dropped his clipboard onto the kitchen island. The checklist had Michael’s name all over it. He took hold of Castiel’s face with his fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his Alpha’s skull, his thumbs resting lightly along Castiel’s jaw. Cas pressed his cheek into Dean’s palm for the comfort.

“Babe, you have one job right now, and that’s to take care of April and the pups. You let Michael and me handle everything else.”

Gabe passed the couple noisily, jangling his keys loudly, unnecessarily. “Text me if you think of anything else, Dean,” he said as he smoothly caught Lisa by the elbow and herded her out before him with her list. “I’ll pick up Andrea and the princess twins first, so you’ve got about twenty minutes to shoot me additions to the shopping list. I’m not going out twice, so send it now or go without.”

“You’ll do as you’re told, Omega,” Dean sniped at him, irritated at having his moment with Cas interrupted. Gabe stuck his tongue out, walking backward toward the garage and crashing loudly into Bobby letting himself in.

“Watch it, you cretin!” Bobby protested, dancing awkwardly to avoid dropping the bags he carried.

“Dean, we can’t do this in chaos,” Cas whispered. “April needs calm.”

“It’s all right, Alpha. I’ll get everyone squared away from here. She won’t see the bedlam. By the time the scents get to her, it’ll all be Pack, all perfectly soothing. Bobby, you’re in Michael’s office next to Alpha’s,” Dean called across the kitchen.

Bobby was still juggling his satchel and his briefcase, not looking where he was going yet. “Right-ho, Dean. On my way. Send Cas in when he’s got a moment, so I can pick up where he… Oh, hey, boss.” Bobby pulled up short, surprised at running into Castiel amid the chaos. “What’re you doing in the kitchen? Shouldn’t you be doing breathing exercises with the missus?”

“We’re hours away from that yet, Bobby. I came down to finalize all my stopping points and hand off what I needed to…” Cas still had a bewildered expression on his face that Bobby read for what it was.

“Right. Then you’re with me,” the old alpha declared. “Give your boy a kiss, and come let’s do this handover. I’m working from here for the foreseeable. Someone’s got to make sure little Alex doesn’t get overlooked.” Bobby had taken to the pup from the instant he heard the little guy’s name, and he spent as many hours with him as he could spare.

Cas watched him disappear with a slack jaw. Benjamin jogged back in and practically saluted Fred, asking for another assignment.

“You heard him, Alpha,” Dean whispered. “Gimme a kiss.”

Cas turned glazed eyes back to Dean. The softness in Dean’s expression pulled him in, and he leaned in to move his lips tenderly over Dean’s mouth. Soft. And warm. And sweet. Dean’s fingers ruffled the hair at the nape of Castiel’s neck where it curled slightly. The Alpha was in need of a haircut. Dean’s head tilted, easing access to his mouth as it opened and reached. Castiel responded, taking what was offered, kissing deeply and pulling the man closer…closer by spades…not close enough. He set his forehead against Dean’s as activity whirled all around them and his own gut clenched in echo of his mate’s from upstairs. 

“I’m not ready, Dean. I thought I was ready, but I’m not.”

Dean chuckled, crows’ feet decorating the corners of his eyes. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you fertilized every cell in her body.”

Cas snickered softly back. “Touché.” 

They breathed shared air amidst the hubbub. “There were meant to be four,” Cas told his husband.

“There always will be,” Dean told him back. Cas didn’t have any response to that. He nodded. “Go on,” said Dean. “Go finish work so you can come back to us. April needs her mate.”

“And you? Do you need me, Dean Michael?”

“Every single day, Castiel James.”

 

 

 

Cas carried her down the wide staircase with a veritable web of worried wolves standing spotter along the way, ready to take the brunt if he slipped and fell. But he didn’t. He deposited her in the sturdy bed in the Heat/Rut room, the best spot in the house for the ordeal she was about to endure, and he kept at least one hand on her bare skin for the next day and a half.

April’s stamina proved itself through the long night and the next day. As the sun set on the 7th of June, the first head crowned. The struggle to delay the posterior womb from jumping the line and expelling its charge first proved futile. Babies come in their own time, and the anterior two wouldn’t drop while their sister was in residence by the back door. In the end, Dr. Mosely had to let nature take its course, and little Kathleen Marie emerged first into the world furious and strong, a tornado of rage and vehemence as she slipped into her father’s waiting hands. He greeted her by name in a clear voice that hid the intensity of emotion that swirled behind his eyes. She had jet black hair, a whole mess of it, and her eyes had skipped right over the vague grey of many newborns to gleam deep blue, intense cerulean blue like the deepest stretches of untraceable ocean. Cas shared an intimate moment with his daughter, face to face, eye to eye. She looked so much like him he had to search her face for evidence of his mate in her visage. Maybe her mouth? He shuddered a shaky breath and handed her to Dean without leaving his spot at the foot of the bed. 

He went back to work. They weren’t through yet.

Castiel clamped her cord, cut it, and carefully delivered the placenta with tears impeding his vision. He could scarcely breathe. She was healthy and strong. She kicked hard and punched out with both fists as if she meant business. Cas felt Dean’s hand bracing his lower back, and he pressed backward into the alpha’s body.

“She’s okay,” Castiel said over and over again as his eyes and his hands stayed busy ensuring his mate was all right too. “She’s okay.”

“She is. Now take a breath. We’re not done yet. Eileen’s got her. Gonna get her checked over while you and Missouri see to the next two. One step at a time, Alpha.” Dean’s voice, his teaching voice, his coaching voice, was everything Cas needed. Cas looked up and met April’s tired gaze.

“Little breather, Kitten,” he told her. “Won’t be long now.” She nodded. Ready. She held tightly to her mother’s hand.

The pediatrician carried Kathleen to her mother, carefully wrapped, her eyes already glistening with antibiotic, and her face already scrubbed clean. April kissed her tiny brow, but as another contraction slammed into her, Michael whisked the pup away and handed her to Sarah without looking. Sarah was smitten from first sight, taken aback at the sudden appearance of a jet-haired infant in her arms. The pup was alert and focused, taking in her packmate’s face, working out how to demand an explanation. A bubble of mirth escaped Sarah as she cradled the tiny pup. She’d forgotten how small they started now that Alex was in his sixth month. Her brain had recalibrated to a larger infant. This one was tiny, but her fierce determined expression belied her size. This had to have been what Castiel had been like as a newborn. Sarah could see him in miniature in everything about the serious little face.

Sarah found Naomi squeezed alone into a corner at the little round table. She joined her and passed the infant into Naomi’s arms. One look at the old woman’s expression cinched it. Naomi was transported back three and a half decades, the years falling away from her face, replaced by something far more human than anything Sarah had ever seen there before. 

At the birthing bed, Meg had April’s left thigh lifted high, and Michael had her right. Dean stayed at Castiel’s shoulder, his feet set to step back swiftly and get out of the way if people needed to move fast, but James was born without complication. James Dean. Castiel was announcing each name as its bearer was born, and Dean’s breath caught in his throat to learn their son would carry his name, overwhelmed. His husband had kept it a secret until now. Cas caught the pup in practiced hands and then nodded for Dean to step up and cut the cord between clamps that Missouri secured.

“Ten little fingers. Ten little toes. He’s healthy, Dean. He’s healthy. Hold him for me. I’m shaking a little.”

“S’okay, Alpha. I’m shaking too. April, love,” Dean said above the noisy celebratory chatter, moving closer. “He’s good. He’s fine. One more, kiddo. Piece of cake. You’re doing great. Here.” Dean let April caress her son’s cheek and grace him with a kiss before Eileen took him to look him over. 

Kathleen had found her way to her other grandmother’s arms, her non-biologic one, Michael’s mother, who braced Alex upright in her left arm while easily cuddling Kathleen in her right. Alex wasn’t impressed with the newcomer. The volume from the stairs in the hallway was increasing. Beatrice was allowing the visitors to see her granddaughter, but no one was permitted to touch or breathe too closely. She stood in the doorway where she could still see the bed, and when the sounds of exhausted pushing echoed forth for the third time, she abandoned the doorway to stand at her son’s shoulder and help count out the tired woman’s breaths. April’s mother stayed at her head, whispering for her when to suck in a deep breath and when to engage her muscles and push again.

Everyone was focused, and everyone had a role to play. It was Pack. It was glorious.

It was loud.

The last of the triplets didn’t give up her warm home easily. Like Alex, she lingered in where it was warm and cushiony, as if she’d been forewarned that the outside was cold and bright and frightening. But despite her reticence, in the end, she too eased forth into her Papa’s waiting arms, and she too set up wailing in earnest.

Emma Jo, last born, largest of the three, hale and demanding and strong of lung like her sister, took her first breath in the moments before midnight, securing that all three triplets would share a birthday. Missouri let Michael cut the third cord, and then she shooed the men away to enjoy their family while she saw to her patient.

April’s body showed remarkably little sign of trauma. There was no tearing to stitch up. No excess bleeding. Meg and Missouri took her vitals, assessed her condition, checked and rechecked that she’d come through unscathed. The placentas were all intact. April was beat. But she was healthy. And all three pups got clean bills from Dr. Leahy, who signed with her hands as she spoke to April, her diction slurred by her own incapacity to hear herself speak, but her words intelligible. 

They were healthy. All of them. All but Dylan, and Dylan was not forgotten. Someone had left a single white rose in the bassinet where the siblings would rest if they ever got a reprieve from being adored hand-to-hand.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room, but there was laughter too, and the noise from the hall became a rejoicing cacophony. Cas pushed his way to the head of the bed. He took his mate in his arms and wept hard, shaking as much as she was.

 

 

 

The house stayed full to bursting for a week, but just as Dean had promised, none of the intricacies that were necessary to keep that many people comfortable made it to April’s recovery room. Castiel helped her back up the stairs the following morning to recuperate in her own room. Dean himself regimented her visiting hours and kept the hallway outside the Master suite quiet and calm, letting April find balm in the presence of Pack scent, but never overwhelming her with chaos. 

He watched from the doorway as Jo and Charlie, Rachel and Meg each snuggled a pup while April ate everything she was served and then some. Color had returned to her cheeks rapidly, a ring of close friends doing more than the food to reinvigorate the Omega. Dean stepped in at the first yawn though, sending everyone away and instructing April in no uncertain terms to rest. He used his alpha voice more than once. 

Dean also made sure that Castiel had nothing of import to occupy his time except to care for his family. Cas politely excused himself while April’s close friends slipped in, but he was never far away. When April napped, he frequently kicked his shoes off and stretched out beside her. And he was the first to respond when a little voice called earnestly from the bassinet. He was rapturously happy, almost paralyzed with it, and Dean watched him silently with a reverence fit for church. There was an awe in the way Castiel looked at the pups, at his mate, at his husband, that was entirely new, and it shook something loose in Dean’s sternum, something that needed to be shed.

Michael set to putting all the extra hands to work, signing up volunteers for constant round the clock tasks that the household would eventually need to learn to manage on their own. But for now…

Rachel was sorting laundry, separating that which could be bleached from that which couldn’t when Michael found her.

“You don’t have to separate baby clothes from everything else,” he said as he watched her. “It can all go in together.”

“Eww, no,” she told him adamantly. “I’m not washing their onesies in with your briefs with the jizz all over them. That’s disgusting.”

Michael laughed. “Those aren’t mine, Rache. Those are Castiel’s.”

“Ugh!” she dropped them like they’d burned her. “Jesus! Gross! You’re here. You do this.” Rachel stepped aside and Michael took over without a care about whose spunk might be mixing with whose puke stains. “I thought the staff did the laundry, anyway,” Rachel said, pulling herself up to sit on the dryer.

Michael chuckled. “They do some of it. There’s more right now than Eunice has time for. It’s going to take all of us. We added seven wolves to the household in five months. That’s without adding to the household staff. We’re not slave drivers, Rachel.”

“You haven’t initiated Cain and Sarah yet though.”

“No, but they live here,” Michael clarified. “The laundry doesn’t care if you’re initiated Pack or not. You still need clean clothes.”

“What’s the holdup on the ceremony?” she asked curiously. “Is Castiel having second thoughts?”

“Mm-mm,” Michael clarified. “He’s decided. They’re both in. But he wanted Pete healed up and stable and the pups a few weeks old before he made it official. Too much change all at once is stressful for Omegas.”

“For April, you mean?” Rachel put to him, watching his response.

He looked up at his sister. “For me, too. I can feel it when it gets to be too much. It’s like a weight pressing down. The faster the changes hit, the more weight. I’m studying for an associate’s degree in Secondary therapy. That’s a big change right there. Stretching as much of the rest of it out as slowly as we can keeps the weight from overwhelming me. And Pete. It’s not like we had any say on when the pups would arrive, but for the rest of it, Cas is being careful about how he doles it out. I can feel the difference, Rachel. It helps to go slowly.”

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “You really have grown up.”

He chuckled and slingshotted a pair of Dean’s boxer briefs at her face.

“Ergh! God! Michael!”

He laughed. “You were saying?”

“How did I end up with the shit job anyway? I want cuddling and bathing.”

“Nuh-unh,” he told her, getting back to work. “Grandparents get preferential status on that.”

“No fair. Your pups have a million grandparents!”

“Don’t let Dean hear you say that,” Michael said darkly.

“Oh. Right. Damn, I bet it’s hard on Dean, seeing all the doting going on, and he’s got no folks to take their share of the cuddling.”

“He’s not talking about it,” Michael conceded, grabbing a new basket from the stack and upending it on the floor to begin sorting through. “But I can tell it’s eating him. He misses his dad. Kinda strange considering they spent Dean’s entire adult life fighting. And especially when Ellen holds one of the pups…” Michael looked up at his sister and took a deep breath. “I think Ellen must be a lot like his mom was. I get this heartbreaking sadness from Dean whenever he sees Ellen with the pups.”

“Mike, is it helping to have this cast of thousands at the house? I feel like it’s too much, but Mommy won’t even think about leaving until she’s certain you’re all okay on your own. And Pop isn’t going anywhere without her. I could try to say I need to get back home soon, but classes don’t start for another five weeks.”

Michael’s smile was a little forced as he went back to work. He decided one pile was big enough and loaded it into the washer. “It’s okay, Rachel. April does best with a lot of Pack around her, and she’s the one who matters most right now. Pop’s been helping in the kitchen, so he’s not underfoot. No one runs a grill like Pop can, you know; not even Dean. I even saw him scrubbing dishes in the sink when the dishwasher filled up and there were still pots to wash. Our Pop, Rachel, with rubber gloves and a little sponge scrubbie, washing a sink full of pans. It’s worth the chaos to see that.”

“But what about you?” she asked. “You’re stressed out by the number of people. I can tell.”

“Eh. The Lafittes are going home today. That just leaves family. I’m fine with family.”

“And Nicholas. Jesus, Michael, that guy…”

“Yeah, I know. I can avoid Nick though. He sticks to the conservatory.”

“You like April’s parents,” his sister observed perceptively, doing what sisters do. Michael took her hands and helped her jump down from her perch.

“I really do. I like them both a lot. They’re good people; easy to like.” Michael emerged from the laundry room behind the kitchen. He stopped by the Butler’s pantry to grab a beer for his sister.

“And?” she prompted as she took the cold bottle and held it for him to crack the top with an opener that lived beside the fridge.

“And what?”

“Oh, come on, Mike. What’s happening between you and April?”

“Jesus, Rache, she just gave birth to triplets. Give her a second to breathe.”

Rachel’s face flattened. “You know what I mean.”

“We’re not getting married, if that’s what you’re trying to imply.” Michael poured a glass of milk for himself and helped himself to a few oatmeal cookies from the jar Dean kept filled.

“I wasn’t implying anything,” she told him innocently, stealing one of his cookies and ignoring the expression of disgust on his face at her pairing of cookies with dark beer.

Michael sat down at the table and set to finishing his snack before Alex woke up from his nap. The pup’s schedule was off, thrown by the changes in the household that he didn’t understand. “Truth is, I don’t know what Pete and I are to each other. Maybe it really is just Omega bonding. She’s been distant, like she’s disengaging.”

“Could it be the pregnancy?”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “Or losing one of her pups. That hit her really hard. Thing is, at the time, I thought it was bringing us closer. She turned more to me than she did to Cas in the weeks after. That part, I’m sure was an Omega thing. Cas was too different in the way he grieved for her to find comfort from him. Having him close only made her hurt worse. She needed an Omega. He needed an alpha. It wasn’t for forever. They came back together. It was just for a week or three. But she and I, for those few weeks, Rachel, I thought it meant something was deepening between us. But then she pulled away.”

Rachel’s face was stricken, touched personally by her brother’s frankness. “Michael, I’m sorry.” She put a hand on top of his, and he turned his over to lace their fingers. “For all of it. I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve thought about it a lot. She threw herself into her composing after that, and it was a maelstrom of chaos. She wrote to drown the pain. I know that’s what she was doing; anything that came to her, no matter what it was, no matter if it made sense or not. The alphas all think it was just to make the new manager prove his mettle, but I know she was trying to bury something. Maybe Dylan. Maybe her feelings for me. I don’t know. Maybe turning to me for comfort instead of her mate scared her. All I know is that she’s distanced herself from me, and she doesn’t want anyone outside this house to hear any of what she’s been writing lately. It’s too personal. If she sold it or made any money from performing it, it would feel like she sold Dylan’s memory for profit. So she’s careful to make the stuff she’s writing less than what she _could_ do; careful to keep it unsellable. She wrote all kinds of stuff – for hours every day, for as long as she could stand to sit with all that pressure on her pelvis. But she won’t talk about it at all. Not to me.”

“She hasn’t broken it off with you…?”

“No, we’re still going through the motions. But her heart’s not in it. Not like it was. Something broke, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Oh, Michael.”

Michael’s head cocked suddenly as if listening. His eyes tracked a line upstairs, Rachel guessed straight to the nursery. “Come on,” he said, then drained his glass. “Someone’s awake.”

“How can you tell?” she asked, abandoning the beer as he took her hand and pulled. “You can’t hear him from here.”

“No, but I can sense an overwhelming sap response from Dean. He’s up there falling in love with one of them right now. This, you gotta see.”

Rachel giggled at his stealthy creep up the stairs; stealthy, but three at a time. He dashed around the top bannister and down the hall to the right. Ellen was in the doorway already, but she threw up a hand to slow them and put a finger to her lips. Michael and Rachel peeked around the doorframe.

Dean stood in the middle of the room with his back to the door. His broad shoulders curled over a bit in unconscious protection of the child in his arms. Michael could see the top of Alex’s head above the crib bumper, so he knew it wasn’t their oldest that had Dean enthralled at the moment. Listening, Michael heard his mate singing softly as he swayed. A soft tan blanket fell in folds over his arm, and Michael could just see a riot of black hair at the crook of Dean’s elbow. 

Kathleen, then.

She was the littlest in size only. Her personality, still shy of a week old, was bigger than the house she lived in. In the bassinet that sat awkwardly inside the larger crib meant to cradle them as they got older, one of the others began to stir. Without pausing his song or turning to acknowledge he knew he had an audience, Dean signaled with his free hand for someone to come collect the waking infant before it woke the two who were still sleeping.

Not two, Michael realized as he stepped closer; six more. Inside the crib, snuggled on either side of the wicker bassinet, Benny’s daughters slept together at the foot of the crib, and Sam’s twins curled up into each other at the head. It was a puppy pile of babies.

Michael reached in and collected James carefully, shushing him softly and expertly feeling the heft of his diaper. He handed the boy to Rachel as she came up beside him, and he nocked his chin toward the changing table. Rachel didn’t have to be told twice. She kissed his tiny, fuzzy forehead and tiptoed across the room to change and play with him.

Michael checked on Alex, alone in his crib. He looked lonely by himself when everyone else had siblings all around, but Alex appeared to be at peace. Michael turned back to face his mate. Dean’s expression was a study in complex emotion at play. 

Clearly, he was in love, but it was more than that. Dean’s brow was furrowed in a way that made him look as if he could see into the future at what the Universe held in store for the pup, and he didn’t like everything he saw.

“Are you all right, alpha?” Michael whispered. He waved Rachel out when she finished changing the little one. They would need nursing soon, and the chart showed it was James’ turn to lead off this round. Dean didn’t answer right away. Michael let him have his moment, his song subsiding to a soft hum. Michael filled in the newborn log at the bureau – what time James awoke and what the condition of his diaper had been, that he was getting the first of his mother’s milk this turn. He wrote a couple notes more than usual, observations about his sleep, how he’d seemed as he woke up. When Michael looked up, Dean’s head was curled over the baby, and his shoulders shook gently.

“Talk to me, Dean,” Michael pleaded, taking the man and his bundle into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re not ready yet, man,” Dean whispered. “We haven’t fixed the world yet. We’re gonna have Omegas. You know that. Probably Kathleen. She’s Alpha’s firstborn, and she was the backdoor baby. Statistically…you know what that means. She’s probably Omega. We’re not ready yet. I can’t protect her.”

Michael huffed a soft laugh. “Silly alpha. Omegas are nothing new. It didn’t scare you with Alex, and he’s a firstborn too. Besides, the world’s not that bad when you’ve got a good pack. Look at me. See how well I turned out? Look at Pete.”

Dean laughed softly and nodded, sniffling. “I know, man. I know. They’re gonna be fine. All of them. It just hit me though, standing here singing, wondering about what the future’s got in store. She’s so little, Michael. Look at her.”

“Yeah, but she’s feisty. I’ll pit her against an alpha any day and put my money on our Kat here. She’s got fight in her.”

Benny’s daughter, Bella, shifted, rolled over, and pushed herself up, leaning heavily on her twin, Elizabeth, who didn’t move. “That’s my signal,” Ellen said in a whisper, stepping in the take the bleary eyed pup before she could scream for attention.

Dean chuckled quietly. “Yeah, we’ve got this pup stuff whipped, long as we have more adults in the house than pups. Thanks, Ellen.”

“Any time, love. I’ve kind of become attached to these two. They’re like my own grandpups. I’ll send Jess up to stand ready to grab the next one that stirs.”

Michael watched the pup sleeping in her daddy’s arms and he felt the same sense of foreboding that had Dean incapable of laying her down for her nap. Michael stayed wrapped up in Dean’s scent, swaying slightly with his mate. He settled his head on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean carded fingers lightly through Michael’s hair. 

They were echoing again, Michael and his mate. There was nothing ominous about the sleeping child. It was simply one mate’s maudlin mood casting out for an echo from the other, but Michael felt a quiet descend over him anyway, something somber; not frightening, just momentous. Fortuitous, maybe.

It couldn’t be the pup. She was an angel, fast asleep in her father’s arms.

It was the song, Michael decided. Dean’s song was too heavy for the emotional weight they were all carrying as they tried to adjust to the new status quo. Michael began to sing another song, a brighter one:

_”Inch by inch, row by row,_   
_I’m gonna make this garden grow._   
_All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground.”_

He sang softly but with a lightness that lifted Dean’s head.

_”Inch by inch, row by row,_   
_Someone bless these seeds I sow._   
_Someone warm them from below till the rain comes tumbling down.”_

“Where did you learn that?” Dean asked, a twinkle in his eye that told Michael his effort had paid off.

“Sunday school when I was a pup,” Michael answered. “Come on, Dean. Put her down and let her sleep. Come help me study while we’ve got a minute.”

“Yessir,” Dean teased. He put Kathleen beside her sister in the bassinet, and both pups immediately turned their heads toward one another in their sleep. “That’s amazing. Did you see that? They know each other, and they didn’t share a womb.”

 

 

 

Out on the back porch, late into the night after even the mosquitos had ceased their buzzing irritations, Cas stood with Emma on his shoulder and watched the moon rise pacifically over the live oak. She was no more than the merest sliver tonight, just a fingernail from turning new. Cas could see the dark outline that fulfilled the circle of his oldest love though – still there despite the shadow. He smiled up at her in her shyness, and she smiled serenely back, pleased that her people’s selenophilia persisted even as electric wiring offered them closer, brighter temptations. For Castiel, the garish light of the modern world couldn’t hold a candle to the mysterious beauty of the moon. Hers was an ineffable, transcendental pull, and he found himself forever looking up, seeking her face, drawn to track her graceful flow across the heavens.

If Cas had a mystical lean at all, it was the sense that his body and his soul were connected by the finest of threads way upward into the sky to Luna, in all her mysterious permanence. She was beautiful. And tonight, she was a tease.

Cas snickered quietly to himself. Dean was right. He was shifting from academic to romantic as he settled. Soon, he would begin penning poetry – great odes to the rotund holy Mother herself. 

“Do you see, Emma?” he asked softly. “Do you see the moon? She’ll be watching over you, little one, for your whole life. People will come and they will go. Stages of your life will ebb and flow around you. But Luna will always be the same. There is very little that we can be certain of, my daughter. Very little that persists. Someday, you may need a reminder that all is not lost. All you need do when that happens, my love, is to look to the heavens and find her waiting to reassure you. What is has always been. What will be has been before. The moon persists. And she is beautiful.”

“Hey, chief,” Dean said, poking his head out the back door. “Coming to bed? We’re all in one pile tonight.”

“I’ll be up in a few minutes, Dean. Don’t wait for me.”

Dean came the rest of the way out and rolled his hands over Castiel’s waist from behind, resting his chin on Cas’ shoulder and kissing the babe’s head. “Nice night.”

“Mm.”

“You need to sleep, babe. All of the pups are quiet. We should take advantage. It won’t last,” Dean counselled softly, interrupting himself to leave warm kisses along Castiel’s neck and jaw.

“Emma was unsettled,” Cas explained. “She and I have been watching the moon rise.”

“Not much to see tonight,” Dean pointed out.

“Only in a manner of speaking,” Cas replied cryptically. “If you put stock in _’The Little Prince’,_ the moon is even more beautiful tonight than when she’s full and entirely visible.”

“That story is creepy as fuck, C.J. Don’t you dare read that to our pups.”

Cas chuckled. “I like it. I think it’s a powerful story with a great deal to say about not taking things at face value.”

“It condones suicide as a viable option for space travel, man.”

“Face value, Dean,” Cas defended.

“Whatever. Raise a whole Pack of little Addams Family pups if you gotta. I don’t really care about what you read to them. I’m just excited to see you play with them. I like this new side of you.”

Cas smiled against Emma’s scalp, his eyes drawn back upward into the sky to track the ascension of the pale sliver of light untangling itself from oaken branches.

“Ya know,” Dean said softly. “My dad was in love with her, too – the moon. Mom teased that he treated her like a mistress, and he never denied that he loved Luna first and best. He could point right to her at the drop of a hat without looking, any time of the day or night, even if she hadn’t risen above the horizon yet. Always knew her phase, always aware of her mood. He was totally smitten. The apes say people marry their own parents. Are you that hopeless, C.J.?”

Castiel didn’t answer. He leaned his head to the side to touch it to Dean’s, and he bathed in the beauty of pale, ephemeral light.

“Cas, come to bed now. She’ll sleep if you lay her down.”

Cas turned to face his husband. “I want you to take Michael out on Friday night. Make a date of it. Just the two of you.”

“You getting rid of me, so you can schtup the moon, C.J.?”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s about preserving our communal stamina and deliberately working to maintain our adult relationships through these first few months while the pups require so much of us. Even if all you do together is drive into the farmlands and park somewhere for a two hour nap, I want you to get away for a while with your mate. We still have plenty of hands here to keep the pups taken care of. Beatrice and Kathleen have both committed to stay through the month.”

“It’s not their choice, Alpha. Their mates are climbing the walls. We’re gonna have an alpha blowout if they stay that long. Besides, neither Jerry nor Reggie have that kind of time available from work. It’s a pipedream. They aren’t going to leave their Omegas here alone with us.”

“Hm. Reggie might. I’ll talk to him. And Jerry might if Rachel stays too.” Cas rocked slowly, soothing droopy eyes into closing.

“Not bloody likely. Jerry’s terrified Michael’s going to woo Rachel away from SMU to enroll up here. He won’t leave her alone without her Alpha, and that means we lose Beatrice and Rachel, both.”

Cas smiled patiently and kissed Dean softly, the newborn’s fuzzy downy head embraced between them. “That’s fine,” Cas said with a touch of saccharine tenderness that fit the hour. “We can handle the Pack without the Lancets. We are enough in ourselves, Dean Michael.”

Dean’s eyes danced back and forth between Castiel’s until the Alpha pulled away a little. “We are enough,” he repeated with a touch to Dean’s chin. The intensity of Castiel’s eyes sent Dean’s fleeing to safer places. He settled on Emma’s face. She was barely awake and frowning, working hard to comprehend the jut of her Papa’s jaw, and she was beautiful.

“You named her for JoAnna Beth,” Dean observed, still soft enough to hold the pristine night intact. “Thanks for that.”

“That was April,” Cas confessed. “Although when she put it to me, it felt right.”

“And where did you get ‘Emma’? That’s not a family name that I know of.”

“It is,” Cas told him. “Emma was Naomi’s mother. My grandmother. It’s as close to honoring my mother as I’m comfortable going. And it means ‘Universal’. It’s actually got the same root origin as James’ fetus name, Ermintrude.”

“Did you know her?” Dean nuzzled the pup’s cheek, and it pulled upward in a reflex smile that melted Dean on the spot.

“My grandmother? Not really. She never recovered from losing her Omega son so young. She drank herself to death before I Presented. I only met her a few times, and only formally. Never in a way that taught me who she was.”

“Sounds kind of familiar.”

“Mm,” Cas agreed before leaning in and kissing Dean quite thoroughly. Pulling away, he swiped beneath Dean’s lower lip with his thumb.

“Come to bed,” Dean whispered. “I need you.”

Cas chuckled. “Your request for me to join you seems to have changed flavor.”

“Mm-hm. Need you to touch me. Please, Cas.”

“I do love it when you beg,” Cas admitted.

 

***************

 

Dean ushered Michael through the door into a densely packed bar from which people on the street could hear a hum of activity even with the door closed. A rolling blues beat swung right back out through the door, loose on its hinges – both the door and the tune – and reminded people with other things on their minds that dens of depravity beckoned only footsteps away.

Michael squinted in the miserly light, trying to make out where the music was coming from.

“Is he still here, do you think?” he asked Dean over his shoulder, torqueing his volume above the din. The place was packed, weird for a dive so close to a residential neighborhood. This one had more in common with a local neighborhood hideout than a college attraction, but there were young bodies everywhere. “Jesus, Dean, this place is disgusting.”

“Just push through,” Dean told him. “Here. This way.” Dean grabbed Michael’s hand and forced a path through the co-eds who barely acknowledged being ruffled. Once past the throng at the door, there was more space. Dean took two stools at the end of the bar nearest the stage that appeared to have been abandoned only moments before. “Check it, Michael. That’s him. On the piano. That’s Rog. Watch my seat. I’mma go say hi and invite him for a drink at break. Get me a beer.”

“Yeah. Beer. Good.” Michael turned on his stool to try to flag down a harried bartender as Dean disappeared into the press of bodies on the dancefloor. It was a writhing, shifting, sensuous organism, that dancefloor, all one being with many arms and legs, and it throbbed with a sexuality that was as timeless as the music. Michael hadn’t had a beer in nearly a year. He was ready to break that streak. He and Alex had mastered the routine of nursing and pumping milk. Alex didn’t care if the nipple in his mouth was organic or silicone, and Michael’s supply was still going strong. He could afford to discard whatever he tainted with alcohol tonight. He had plenty in the freezer, stocked away for evenings just like this. And Michael wanted a beer.

 

 

 

Dean pushed through, wary of where he put his feet but disinclined to care if he shouldered anyone roughly. It was a rough kind of place. Or it used to be. Evidently, the college crowd had found his father’s old second home and had realized the music oozing off the stage was the shit.

Damn the bad luck.

Dean escaped the sweaty mass mostly unscathed although he’d felt more than a couple of uninvited gropes to his ass along the way. He stumbled up onto the stage at a hunker and squatted by the bass end of the piano. The exact same piano. Memories exploded in his head, and he grinned like an idiot, reaching up to touch the keys.

A hand slapped him hard, and he jerked back and nursed it close to his chest.

“Dude!” he protested. 

“No one touches these keys but me,” Rog told him imperiously without looking.

“When did that change?” Dean asked him, still chuckling. “You used to beg me to duet. I made you a lot of money, old man.”

Rog snapped his head to the side, and the widening of his eyes was all the reward Dean needed. He grinned wide and happy as his hands kept right on inking out a satiny flow of sex. “Dean Winchester! What the hell you doin’ here, boy? Thought you moved up to concert halls and cotillions.”

“Who me? Rog, you know I’d never forget my roots. How are you, man? What the fuck are you still doing here?”

“Where else would I be?” Rog asked him as if the question were preposterous.

“You’ve drawn quite a crowd,” Dean observed.

“Yeah. Don’t know what to think of it, but it buys me an extra baggie twice a week, so I ain’t complainin’. You wanna sit in for a spell?”

“Nah, I can’t,” said Dean over the music. “My mate’s up at the bar holding me a seat. Come and say hi when you take a break, would’ja? I’m buyin’.”

“You’re on, pup. You’re on. Gimme ten to wrap the set.”

 

 

 

Rog shook Michael’s hand like a gentleman, the ancient digits nimble despite his age and a careful space between their bodies suitable for the Holy Spirit or whatever b.s. the kids were prompted to envision these days. He shot Dean a knowing smirk, well aware of Dean’s taste in fine dining.

“Shut up,” the alpha growled back, shouldering back in between them. “I know he’s handsome. He’s got a brain too, man. Don’t be a dick.”

Rog laughed and lifted his palms in surrender. “I didn’t say nothin’. Michael, did you hear me say nothin’?”

“He didn’t say anything, Dean,” Michael agreed, amused as hell. Dean blushed. “Rog, what’ll you have?” Michael changed the subject, raising his hand to flag the bartender back for another round.

“Whiskey,” Dean and Rog both answered at once.

“Boy,” Rog said stoutly, accepting the stool Dean surrendered to him. “You up and disappear on me without a fuckin’ word, make yourself into a spruced up dandy on the TV, and then waltz back in with candy on your arm. What the fuck’s the matter with you? Didn’t I teach you nothin’?”

“I missed you, too, Rog. I’ll play a set with you when the crowd dies down a bit if you want.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” the old man agreed, lifting his drink. “And kid, I heard about your Daddy. I’m real sorry. I know you tried to haul him up outta them doldrums, but men like him, he gotta want it for hisself. Ain’t nobody gonna do it for ‘im. Not even his own son.”

“I know, Rog. Thanks, man. He loved your music.”

“That’s because the man had _taste,”_ Rog joked happily. He drained his glass and slapped it back onto the bar hard. Michael waved again for the bartender.

 

 

 

They stayed for hours. Rog balanced right on his usual precipice between heartily buzzed and totally blotto. Dean shooed him back to work when the other musicians returned smelling like more than cigarette smoke, and the bar continued to pulse like life dragging out of the primordial sea. Dean got handsy on the dancefloor, and Michael hardened in his dress jeans, gyrating his hips to set his mate on fire. They were both sweaty when they made it back to their stools and harried a couple of betas off their seats. Kissing hard and urgent, Michael stopped Dean’s hands from unbuckling his belt, and the Sub whined pitifully.

“Please, sir. Just a quickie. No one’s looking. No one cares.”

“Castiel cares, Dean. Groping is one thing, but there are Primates here tonight. We’re not having sex in public.”

“How about in the alley out back? I can’t even count the number of blowjobs I knocked back out there. It’ll be like old times. C’mon, man. Reminisce with me.”

“Not a chance,” the Omega said firmly. “I have no interest in being another notch on your brick wall in a filthy alley. Go play a set with Rog. You promised you would. Get your mind outta your pants and put that energy into music.”

“Damn, you’re bossy,” Dean complained. He tossed back the remains of his Scotch and pushed off from the bar to stagger slightly as he shoved aggressively through the still gyrating masses.

Dean’s stool didn’t stay empty for more than a beat or two. A hairy, burly brute of a beta slithered onto it from the shadows. He leaned into Michael’s space, his breath a reeking vapor. Michael grunted in disgust and leaned away, grimacing.

“Hey there, sweet thing,” the man opened. Seriously? “What are you drinking tonight? I’ll buy you anything you want.” The man set his paw of a hand across Michael’s wrist, and Michael jerked away.

“Not interested!” he said with a sneer. “Go away! This seat is taken and so am I.”

“Don’t be like that,” said the bear. “Pretty thing like you? He wouldn’ta left you if he cared. Come sit in my lap.”

“You’re disgusting,” Michael told him slowly, his brows raised, his tone weighted as if explaining to a simpleton. “I said no. If you touch me again, I will break your cheekbone.”

“Ooh, feisty little bitch. I like that.”

“Get off my mate’s stool,” Michael explained patiently.

The man’s eyes widened suddenly. “I know you,” he said putting his index finger to Michael’s chest. “You’re that uppity bigshot Omega what thinks he’s a Dominant. How’s that working for you now, _Omega?_ You gonna make me behave? Your alpha gonna come running to pull your ass outta here if the locals get too familiar?” The man glanced briefly at the stage. Dean was happily tickling keys next to Rog. He didn’t appear to be paying any attention to Michael.

Michael followed his eyes, but he wasn’t worried. He’d handled alphas meaner than this guy, and this guy was a beta. And what the bear couldn’t see was that Dean’s attention, internally, was riveted on his mate. He’d already sent a metaphysical offer to wipe the floor with the beta which Michael had already calmly waved off. 

Keep playing, alpha. This is just a fly buzzing around my head. I’ve got this.

The beta leaned in menacingly, his whole body sending fumes of alcohol out in a fog that made Michael’s eyes water. “You’re not some bigshot, Omega. You’re just a bitch. You belong in the kitchen with your belly pumped full of pups. That alpha’s letting you play in the big leagues with the grownups outta some kinky fantasy life, in’t he? Probly has a hankerin to be a bitch himself. You people make me sick. Someone oughtta teach you your place.”

“I suppose you’re that someone? Where is my place, exactly?” Michael asked politely. “Oh, right. The kitchen. Where the knives are,” he added helpfully.

“There’s a change coming, _Omega_ ,” the beta warned Michael, still much too close. “You and your pansy high society mates are ‘bout to be knocked down a peg or two by real men, real alphas. And you won’t see it coming till it knocks you on your ass. You think you’re safe in that pretty mansion behind the pretty gates. But you can’t hide in there forever. You’ll come out for a breath of real air every now and then, just like tonight, just like this, and we’ll be waiting.”

It was the threat to the Pack that kicked Michael off his stool, but the beta was expecting Michael’s strike, and he got a hand to the back of Michael’s head and slammed his brow into the bar. He held the Omega down and whispered fast in his ear, spittle flying. “You get real comfortable in that house, bitch. It ain’t safe for you out here. You’re liable to get hurt.”

Michael snarled and caught the man’s leg with his own, pulling him to the open side and driving the heel of his hand up hard to his jaw as the beta scrambled for balance. His head snapped back as his body crumpled. Michael felt hands at his waist, grappling for a grip to pull him clear, but he got a couple of good punches landed first, and he felt the beta’s cheekbone crack under his fist.

Goddamn, that hurt his hand! He may have cracked a finger on that one. Michael’s vision blurred as Dean yanked him off and took his place, breaking the man’s nose in seconds flat.

“Alpha!” Michael hollered. “Alpha! Dean! Get off him! He’s down, damnit! Back up and let him breathe! He’s not worth it!”

“Fucking piece of shit!” Dean cried as he landed punch after punch in the man’s face, covered now by his bulky forearms as the beta had curled up on himself and buried his head in his arms in defense. “Touch my _mate!_ I’ll fucking _end_ you!”

“Dean! Stop! He’s down! Alpha, can you hear me?” Michael tried to catch Dean’s arm as he rared back again and again, but he couldn’t get hold.

“Step out, Michael,” said Rog calmly, easing his way forward through the crowd in no hurry. The old beta stooped down, caught Dean’s ankles and pulled backward. Dean shouted as he flattened. He grabbed out for anything of the bleeding beta he could catch, but Rog continued pulling backward until Dean was several feet away from his target. Michael swooped in and helped him to his feet, holding Dean back with all his strength.

“I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Yeah, I think he got that message, alpha,” Michael agreed. “Dean, I’m not hurt. I’m fine.”

“Not _hurt!?”_ Dean turned enraged red eyes on Michael, and Michael stepped back. “He slammed your face into the fucking bar! You’re fucking bleeding, Michael!”

“It’s minor, Dean,” Michael rallied, stepping in close again, sending confidence through the bonds, sending assurance. “I’m all right. Look, he’s down. We took him down. Let the cops do the rest. If you hit him again now, you’ll be arrested. Don’t ruin my first night out in a year by making me call home for bail money.”

Dean huffed angrily, tearing his eyes from Michael’s battered forehead to the beta rolling to his side on the filthy floor and groaning. “I’d be justified in tearing his throat out,” Dean argued. “He attacked you.”

“Dean, I’m fine. Take a breath. The cops are on their way. Let him go. We have battles to fight, alpha, but not like this. Rog, help me,” Michael entreated over Dean’s shoulder.

“Yeah, okay. This way, hothead.” He tugged at Dean’s sleeve, and the alpha allowed himself to be steered to the bar’s stockroom. Rog chuckled as he shoved Dean down onto an upturned bucket and forcibly uncurled his fist for him. “You haven’t changed a bit, pup. Still rarin’ to take on the world one asshole at a time.”

“Get off me, you old geezer,” Dean sniped. “See to Michael.” He opened and closed his fist and grunted in pain as he shook his hand out. His knuckles were already bruising. One of the waitresses came in with a bucket of ice and several white bar rags. She winked at Dean as she handed them to the pianist, but Dean was in no mood to flirt. She shot a quick look at Michael, sizing him up from feet to brow before slipping wordlessly out again. Michael knelt and put an ice pack together, twisting the top and handing it to Dean. Dean refused it. He gestured that Michael should put it to his own head, and the Omega winced when it made contact.

His forehead really was pretty badly bruised. Michael could feel a goose egg swelling under the ice, and the pack came away pink when he looked at it. Two of his fingers were also swelling up. One of them was jammed. Michael put his hand in the bucket, easing it down into the ice until his fingers were covered as Rog filled a rag for Dean’s hand too.

“Terrific date night,” groused Dean. “Good idea, man. Let’s go to that old shithole your dad drank himself into the gutter in and see if it’s turned into a hotspot for drunk shithead traditionals.”

“Don’t take it out on me, Dean. This was your idea.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Michael.”

“Ah. Okay. So, you’re blaming yourself for that asshole’s bad attitude. Yeah, that’s so much better.”

“The cops are here,” Rog said with his head half out the door to the storeroom.

“It’s not a night on the town till the cops show up,” Dean stated fatalistically.

“Knock it off,” Michael grumped. “We didn’t do anything wrong. Stop acting like you’re a fifteen year old delinquent who can’t stay out of trouble.”

“What crawled up your ass?” Dean grumped back.

“We didn’t do anything wrong, Dean. I didn’t egg that moron on. You didn’t leave me vulnerable and unprotected. You didn’t _fail_ as my mate. Stop that stupid spiral and take care of your hand!”

“You didn’t need me to protect you,” Dean said flatly. “You had it handled without me.”

“Yeah. So? I’m not helpless. Do you need me to be? Do you? I sure as fuck didn’t stop him from getting first blood, did I? And I was damn glad you got there when you did, so stop wallowing. Jesus!”

“What are you pissed at me for?” Dean asked, cranky as his hand throbbed. He pulled the ice off and examined his knuckles. There was no hiding any of this, and Cas wasn’t likely to be pleased.

“Because you’re sitting there filing this in your head as _your_ failure. _Your_ weakness. And you’re gonna come to the conclusion that you can’t keep me safe in public, and I’m never gonna see the fucking sun again!” Michael rounded on his mate, furious. “This is what we’ve been arguing about for months, Dean. These assholes are out there, and they know my name. They know what I look like, where I live, when I might come out sniffing the air. It’s not safe out here for me, and I _get_ that. But it’s never gonna BE safe for any Omega until we confront them head on. And I do mean WE. You’re right, Dean. I didn’t _need_ you to come rescue me back there. I had that douche on the fucking ground, and I was fixing to turn his face into Play-Doh, just like you did. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t damn grateful to have you watching my back. We do this together, alpha. That’s what keeps us safe. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit by and watch you talk yourself into locking me in shackles for my own protection!”

Dean swallowed, but he didn’t get a word in before the door eased open and the waitress showed a uniformed cop into the tight space.

“Evenin’ fellas,” the cop said. “Mind if I ask you two a few questions about the, um, altercation out front? The bloody guy says he was offering a friendly drink when you two piled on him and pummeled him pulpy.”

Dean looked up, still sprawled on the low bucket where Rog had put him. “That what the witnesses say?” he asked.

“Oh, now, alpha. Place like this? There are no witnesses. You know that. Eighty-five people with their phones on record and no one saw a damn thing.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “Figures.”

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?”

Dean ran his uninjured hand through his hair. “Ask him,” he said, indicating Michael. “He got the whole picture. I can only tell you the ending.”

“You, uh, you don’t mind if I speak directly to your mate, alpha?”

“Oh, for pete’s sake!” cried Michael.

Rog chuckled and used Michael’s outcry to try to slip out unnoticed, but the cop blocked him. “I do need eyewitness statements, beta” he told the old pianist. “Don’t leave the bar until I’ve had a chance to take yours.”

“You’re the boss,” Rog mumbled with a glance toward Dean’s straight-lipped expression.

 

 

 

By the time they made it home, Cas was lacing his running shoes in the garage. He didn’t keep them long. He checked Michael’s goose egg and jammed finger before examining Dean’s knuckles. 

“Are you really okay, Dean?” he asked privately. 

“I dunno, Alpha,” Dean admitted. “Physically, we’re fine. But that was the tip of the iceberg. It’s going to get bigger, wilder, nastier. We’ve got security tailing our whole Pack, but how much good can they really do? That guy put his hands on Michael in plain view of everyone in that bar. That takes a monstrous set of balls or a whole boatload o’ stupid. Or both. There wasn’t a person there who didn’t know who Michael is. And no one had a fuckin’ word to say as witness. I’m telling you, C.J. Something big’s shifting. That had the feel of a test run to me. 

Dean took a deep bracing breath and continued with a look across to Michael, whose head was ducked to avoid meeting anyone’s eye. “So, are we okay? Who the fuck knows? Maybe I’m overblowing everything because my emotions are already stretched, I’m fucking sleep deprived what with having six babies in the house, and some fucking _idiot_ attacked my mate.”

Cas turned to Michael. The Omega licked his lips, fiddled with the splint on his finger, and then shrugged. “Alpha, if you’ll give me a couple of minutes, I’ll go change and hit the pavement with you,” Michael suggested. “That is, if we’re not grounded or anything.”

“Grounded? Why on earth would you be grounded?” Cas frowned.

“You’re not…mad?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Michael, as far as I’m concerned, that Neanderthal got off easy. He’s lucky to walk away with a couple of broken bones. I fully intend to file assault charges and see that they stick. If this WAS a test run, we’ll clarify that there are consequences to that kind of behavior – consequences above and beyond a night at the E.R. And no, you are not running with me this morning. Both of you smell terrible. Go clean up and get straight to bed. Do not handle my pups in that condition. Off with you both.”

Dean peeled off the shirt that had been dragged through the grime on the bar floor and tossed it into the garbage. He grumbled as he headed toward the door, but Michael lingered.

“Sir…”

“Move, Omega. Bed. Now. We’ll talk later.”

“But can’t I…”

“One.”

“Going, sir.”

“Thank you, Michael. Watch that your splint doesn’t get wet in the shower.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“And Michael?” Cas added just before the Omega disappeared into the house. “I’m glad you’re okay. We’ll talk later.”

“Thanks. It’s Dean who’s wound up tight over that guy though. Not me. You’ll look after him, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Cas replied darkly. “We’ll look after him together, Michael. You’re a part of what he needs right now, and the first step of that is to get him calmed enough to sleep a few hours. We’ll take the next steps together, all three of us. Do you understand?” Cas held Michael’s eye intensely, meaningfully.

“Yes, Sir. I do. Thank you. Good night.”

“Sleep well, Omega.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for more childbirth stuff. It's not all that icky, but it's still childbirth. There's more mentions of male lactation and stuff like that, but you wouldn't still be reading if that bothered you enough to need warnings.
> 
> Warning for physical assault, injury, general violence toward the end of the chapter. No one we care about is injured gravely, but there is an assault here.
> 
> Quick personal statement: I'm going to JaxCon in November with a good friend. Would love to share hugs there if anyone else in the Pack is also going to Florida.
> 
> Also, I'm starting to get enough pieces in place here in the Timestamps to feel ready to launch the next phase full story. I expect to need a couple more TS's to set pins for that and then jump off the cliff again.
> 
> Hugs to the Pack!


	5. June 30, 2018 - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating three Pack birthdays and two new Pack initiations all at once, Dean takes celebration plans into his own hands. He may have overstepped. Marriage is hard, y'all. Michael finds himself in a tough position and Alpha offers him a simple way out. April's moving forward now on multiple levels, and the pups...so many pups.
> 
> Part 1 of 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No collage on this one because I don't feel like making one. We're gonna use our collective imaginations. I do hope you're still engaged in this story. It's still talking to me every day, sometimes all day. My sweet babies.
> 
> Shout at me if you see anything that needs fixing, if I missed any pertinent tags, if I typo'd my way into irritating your read-flow.
> 
> *Edit: Thank you Melodina for reminding me that even new parents of triplets don't age three years in 12 months. I set Cas' age back where it belongs.

Plans for traveling to New York for the premiere with an entire basketball team of pups was proving a logistical logjam. The trip was still weeks away, but they needed to solve the problem now or half of them would have to bail on the premiere. If they tried to fly, they risked being trapped in an insular metal tube of misery for hours on end with no escape and all the other passengers plotting their tortured demise before they landed. Michael proposed renting a spacious coach, chauffeured and comfortably able to move and spread out. The new plan required a longer travel commitment though, and that wasn’t an easy fix. They needed to configure the coach for business along the way as well.

Dean pointed out that April’s show had better be a rousing success or they were going to lose their shirts just in the travel arrangements. Michael rolled his eyes, cinched her in tight with a kiss to her temple, and assured Dean it would be. She was brilliant, and the show would be spectacular. Michael assumed responsibility for arranging the layout of the coach: business space and meals up front, casual seating in the middle, sleeping, dressing, and toileting toward the back.

“Perhaps we should go ahead and buy the coach outright if we’re planning to make modifications this exhaustive,” Cas suggested, looking at plans of the final layout in Michael’s office. “Surely we’ll have need to travel as a family more than just this once.”

Michael nodded seriously. “They’ve agreed to the configuration changes, but we don’t hold a lock on rental dates, only preferential status, so the total cost isn’t unreasonable. If we wait a year and leave the coach in their hands, the purchase price will drop by quite a bit. We can keep using it whenever we need to and make notes on other design ideas that are likely to come up – and tweak it when we’re ready to buy. We can decide then if we still want this one or if it’s too hard-used after a year of carting puppies and Dean around. Maybe take everything we learned from here and design one from scratch. Either way, what we wind up with will be cheaper or better designed, possibly both.”

Cas stared at Michael wordlessly for a moment.

“What? You don’t want to wait?” Michael asked.

Cas blinked. “No, I think waiting is a fantastic idea. You’re brilliant.”

“It’s just a bus, sir.”

Cas nodded. “Go ahead and tell them the modification plan is approved and have them get going on it. Is everything finalized for tonight’s celebration? Do you need anything more from me on the dinner?”

Michael scoffed. “The birthday boy isn’t supposed to have to plan his own party, Alpha. Dean’s on it. You can go about your business this morning. The twins’ birthday party doesn’t start until one.”

Cas sighed. “Michael, please tell me there’s not a birthday party for me wedged in between the Pack oath ceremony and the twins’ birthday. I explicitly forbade that. It’s too much. I thought we were having dinner.”

“Oh, no, Alpha. It’s not a party, exactly.”

“It had better be nothing whatsoever. We have enough on our plate without making a fuss over my getting older.”

“You’ll have to take that up with your husband, sir. I didn’t have anything to do with it.” Michael rolled his plans up into a cylinder and shuffled toward his office door. “But you wouldn’t ask us to skip out on celebrating the twins turning one. Everyone else gets a birthday dinner at the very least. Surely you don’t expect the Pack to let your birthday pass without an acknowledgment. That wouldn’t be right, Castiel. You’re our Alpha.”

Cas wasn’t blocking Michael’s exit, but the Omega found himself fastened in place by the weight of his Alpha’s expression. “Is it simply dinner, Michael, or should I expect confetti and a young woman popping from a cake? I don’t like surprises. Tell me everything you know.”

Michael licked his lips. “Sir, I can’t. He’ll kill me.”

“Calculate quickly, Omega,” Cas said darkly.

Michael’s gaze dropped. “I don’t know the full plan, Alpha. I only have the menu and the guest list.”

“And?”

Michael paused long enough to engender a rise in room temperature as Castiel’s brow went up and he shifted incrementally forward, waiting impatiently. Michael swallowed and risked a glance up into Castiel’s red-rimmed eyes, a move that turned out to be a mistake. Castiel wasn’t amused. 

“He’s invited the entire Facility,” Michael admitted.

Castiel gawked. “The entire Facility. Tonight. To my home. Without my permission.”

“Sir…He said…”

“That’s enough Michael. I’ll take it from here. I’ve heard enough.”

“He thought it would make you happy,” Michael pleaded, trailing the Alpha as he stalked clear of the office hallway. “He was trying to do something nice for your birthday.”

“I said that’s enough,” Cas repeated over his shoulder, and Michael stopped in his tracks. He sent Dean a warning through their bonds and got what amounted to a playful wink in return. With a feeling that he wasn’t seeing the full picture – a common sensation in this house – Michael trudged back to his office to call the coach rental company. He had to clear his tasks by ten so he could take over from Pete as primary parental caregiver for a few hours. He’d promised her a break. Baby care was exhausting. Nick was scheduled to call in at noon.

The schedule never stopped shifting around them. There wasn’t time to worry about Dean.

Michael’s phone pinged with a text as he lifted the receiver from his desk phone. He set the receiver back in its cradle and checked his cell. Dean left him a cryptic note:

_”You ready for the big one? We’re go for launch!”_

Michael frowned at it. The big one? Big one, what? What was Dean crowing about? Another text popped up before Michael got an answer typed in.

_“Gimme a few minutes with the boss, and then I’ll fill you in…”_

Michael punched back, _”I don’t enjoy being kept in the dark Dean. Yur going to tell me everything”_

_“Yeah. Sure. L8R.”_

“Fucking brats, I swear,” Michael grumbled to himself. He slid his cell back into his pocket and went back to work. At only one year old, the twins didn’t have any little friends to invite over for their first birthday. The party would be Winchester Pack and Lafittes only, and it was slated to bleed right into the formalities of Sarah and Cain both taking their oaths to become full Pack members. From there, all Michael knew was that between the oaths and dinner service, the house was likely to bulge at the baseboards as everyone they knew in town was expected to show for the evening.

Dean had already warned Michael to expect Cas to be caught unawares and to be displeased by the surprise, but he’d assured his mate that it would work out in the end. Michael pursed his lips tightly as the phone rang in his ear. Somehow, working out in the end usually ended with leather belts flying. At the very least. And Michael wasn’t innocent enough in this one to be certain of standing clear.

He was also in need of an Omesol Release for the first time since he’d conceived Alex.

Those two facts seemed a perfect setup to Michael. Far easier than asking for help with the fog that had rolled in over his brain.

 

 

 

April had the three pups who weren’t rolling over yet laid out on a blanket on the floor in front of her in the conservatory while she snuggled Alex in her lap. He lit up when she sang to him, and she loved it as much as he did. His face was rapt with fascination and engagement, his eyes wide and round, and his mouth endeavoring to mimic the way hers moved. He gurgled along with the song and clapped his pudgy hands. He was learning the cadence of the tune rapidly. His brows lifted in anticipation of the exciting dynamics, and he chortled when she added strange voices along the way. Everything about Alex was geared to interact with people, from the way his cries called out for help to the way his eyes sought depth of understanding. He was a sponge, and he was learning fast.

Learning to turn people to his will. 

April knew what that looked like, and Alex was a player at a mere six months of age. He was going to be a master at it before he learned to speak his first word, and April felt pride in her sternum. His wide round eyes, far too pretty and too big for his face, could wheedle anything out of anyone. Alex had his father’s beauty coupled with his mother’s wiliness. He was going to devastate, and it was going to be glorious.

And he loved music.

April sang him another and then she settled him into his prop-chair and moved on to Emma. Taking turns letting each pup get a chance for some one on one time with Mommy allowed April to bond with them all separately, not just as a school of fish. They were a multitude, but they were still each individual people, and they were all different. Emma was easy-going and flexible. She seemed up for anything, cheerfully adapting when the needs of her siblings screwed up her schedule and letting it all be without blinking. Emma had been the first to smile, the first to giggle, the easiest to nurse, and the quickest to fall asleep. She loved being carried about in a sling, and she didn’t care who wore it.

Dean’s incessant need to apply nicknames had rapidly scrolled past her initials, E.J., to ‘Eege’, then ‘Edge’, then ‘Edgie’, finally landing on ‘Idgie’ where it seemed to have lodged.

“From _’Fried Green Tomatoes’,”_ he boasted, hoisting her over his head while she squealed.

“She’s too little for that kind of play,” Michael had admonished curtly. “She still needs her head supported, and she’s going to puke on you.”

“Spoilsport,” Dean griped, but he cradled her back in his arms with a careful grip beneath her head. “Idgie doesn’t mind, do you, squirt?”

“Why did we even bother giving them legal names if you’re just going to subvert them?” Michael asked as he spooned mashed fruit into Alex’s mouth.

“Don’t be a crank,” Dean told him. “My nicknames are awesome.”

April sang softly to Idgie, her eyes locking with her daughter’s, noting the difference in the way Emma concentrated on the song from how Alex listened. They really were different people, and April was fascinated. 

She looked up at the sound of a tap to the door jamb to find Cain in the entranceway. She smiled at him and cocked her head to invite him in without pausing her song. The alpha took a seat on the couch across from the pups, leaning down to run a tender hand over Kat’s messy hair. April had never seen Cain sit on the floor. She wondered what it might take to get him relaxed enough to do that. He always seemed tightly strung to April. He had a manila folder in his hand.

Business, then.

April ended the song, but she continued to play with her daughter, shifting to a game of peekaboo that Emma didn’t seem to understand yet.

“Have you got a minute?” Cain asked politely.

“I need to change Jimmy,” April replied without looking away from Emma. “And while I’m at it, I should go ahead and check the others. What do we need to talk about?”

Cain set his folder down and swooped the offensive smelling pup up smoothly into his arms and then laid him out on the changing table by the window. “You’ve sold two singles,” he reminded her. “And the recordings are coming out in a couple of weeks. I need two more, April. You said you could get me a steady stream of sellable pieces, but I don’t see anything nearing completion in your files. Are they saved somewhere else? What’s going on? Is it the pups?”

Cain worked efficiently while he talked. He’d never spent much time around infants before, but he was a quick study, and it was clear that in Castiel’s Pack, all hands were expected to assist. He was trying sincerely to make a home in the Pack. Plus, the more he helped with the pups, the more time April had available for composing. Besides, the little terrors were adorable and hard to resist when they clutched at his pinkie and pulled it in to suck on it. April brought him Emma as he finished up with Jimmy, trading them out as if they’d been juggling pups for years.

She lifted her son to her shoulder and paced slowly back to the others. Alex watched her with his fingers in his mouth, a clear sign he was getting hungry. Kat kicked out and pressed herself upward with her little fists planted on the blanket, determined to make the most out of tummy time. “I can get you two more by the end of the weekend, alpha,” April told him. “I’m thinking of scrapping what I’ve got and starting over though. They aren’t making any sense to me yet. I’m not in the right headspace for a love song, sir.”

“April, you don’t have to call me sir.” Cain lifted Emma, blew a raspberry on her belly, and then walked over to collect Kat. “Especially not here at the house while you’ve got all your alphas around. Besides, no one said they had to be love songs. Sometimes it’s the quirky off-the-wall ideas that make the best hits. Look at Michael Jackson. His songs were about all kinds of odd things, rarely about love.”

“Hmm,” she responded vaguely. “Contentment at home combined with sleep deprivation aren’t conducive to good song writing,” she added a moment later as she rolled Idgie onto her belly and laid out on her own tummy to play head to head with her as Jimmy snuggled between his mother’s elbows, his little feet pressed against her collarbone.

“April, look at me,” Cain instructed, and April gave him her eyes without hesitation. “Do we need to rethink the plan? Do you need a break while the triplets are infants, while Nick has you on the phone at all hours of the day and night? Can you keep up with all of it at once?”

“I said I would, and I will,” she told him, injured. “I haven’t missed a deadline yet, have I?”

“You’re not getting enough sleep,” he pointed out. “Don’t even try to argue that one. I know better.” He still cradled Kathleen in the crook of his arm.

“You’ve been discussing me with Cas,” she accused petulantly. “I would rather you didn’t do that behind my back.”

“I answer his questions, Omega. That’s not going to change. It’s not always going to happen in your presence. I’m not going to apologize for comparing notes to look after you.” Cain made quick work of changing the oldest of the triplets.

April rolled sideways to let Jimmy have more space. She ended up on her back on the floor, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. “I have a song on my head. You’re not going to like it. You’re not going to be able to sell it. But I can’t move on until I get it out.” She sighed and risked glancing over at him. His lips were tight, but he didn’t protest. He set Kat back down on the blanket beside her sister and eased Alex out of his chair. Alex wrapped both hands tightly around Cain’s neck, hopeful that he was on his way to the kitchen for lunch. He babbled loudly in protest when Cain laid him on the changing table instead.

“What’s the song about,” Cain asked without looking at her.

She sat up and reached for Jimmy, pulling him into her lap and tugging gently on his tiny feet to bicycle his legs playfully. “It’s about the feeling in my head when too much happens all around me at once. It’s kind of a chaotic song. I’m planning on four separate style shifts and a ton of audio enhancements in the background. The critics will trash it musically, but…I don’t know. The chaos is the whole point, and sometimes it’s what people need to hear, what they need to express. I need to see if I can make it work. I feel like this might be the one I should record myself…if it turns into anything useable. It feels very personal, but also universal, and I want to try. It’s not going to be easy.” She glanced up at him to judge his face, but he was turned away. She couldn’t see his eyes.

Braced for another lecture about being realistic, April didn’t quite hear him at first. She frowned up at him standing above her with her son jouncing easily in his arms. “What was that?” she asked.

“I said, let me know what you need from me. Let’s do it.”

She cocked her head. “It’s not part of the plan we agreed to.”

“No. But that’s never been more than a rough outline anyway. You’re an artist, April. Sometimes you’re going to feel the need to upend everything and go with your gut. If we want the big payoffs, we have to be poised to take the big risks. This one’s a big risk or you would’ve told me about it sooner. My instinct is telling me to shove all the furniture aside and give you room to paint something big. I learned a long time ago to trust my instinct.”

April bit her lip and ran firm massaging hands up the length of Jimmy’s legs. “I thought you would remind me we had a deal and put me back on churning out singles for other artists.” Her voice shook. Cain squatted down in front of her and let Alex wiggle out of his hands to join his siblings. Alex looked like the ungainly swan amidst a hatched nest of ducklings, his size a dead giveaway that he was odd man out.

“It’ll still be a single,” Cain reminded her. “That is, unless you’d rather make it the crux of a new album. We can ditch the sales of singles and start putting together an album if you’re ready to tackle that. Kiddo, I’m here for you. What do you want to do?”

“An album without a core fanbase is a bad idea,” she told him. “But Nick thinks he’s going to surprise me with a studio session while we’re in New York.”

Cain pressed his lips together, but he didn’t deny it.

“He wants me to record _’Launch Me’_ while I’m there, so he can release it just before Grammy nominations begin. I wanna do it like the old 45 singles and create a B-side. I wanna put this new one on the reverse side and release them together. LPs are coming back. That means 45s are coming back. It feels right. The two songs, they match. They’re opposite sides of the same coin. I want them on opposite sides of the same record. Cain, please. Please let me do this.”

Cain took only a moment to register his understanding. His eyes lit as her vision took shape in his head. “April, I believe that’s an excellent idea.” He let his eyes dance as he thought about it, and he held up a finger in restraint. “It’ll depend on your new song having enough weight to work against a Broadway anthem. That’s no small feat. It has to be powerful without competing.”

“It’s going to work, alpha. Just wait. They’ll complement each other. I’ll get something worked up for you, and I’ll play it for you tomorrow. And by then, you’ll be…I’ll be…you know.”

“We’ll have a Claim-bond between us,” he finished for her. She nodded shyly. Her eyes locked with his for an uncomfortably long beat before she lowered her gaze. His eyes were impossibly blue. April found him beautiful, but he’d never touched her before, not really. Tonight would change that, and April was antsy. She felt guilty in looking forward to his touch, even with her mate’s assurance that she had nothing to worry about. Attractions were normal and Cas wasn’t threatened by the alpha’s place in April’s life. Having him at arms’ length from the Pack wasn’t working. It was high time to bring him in. But April couldn’t quite picture how they would all fall into place with each other, and it worried her.

He didn’t seem Submissive to April. He seemed alpha. Period. He was unlike Dean in almost every way, and April couldn’t reconcile how they could both be alpha-Subs. She couldn’t see him as a Sub. She knew that some of her battles with him over the last few months were tests meant to find out who he really was, but she’d learned nothing. He gave away nothing. She knew almost nothing about him. Maybe the Claim would help. Feeling guilty enough already at how desperately she longed to feel his touch, April was honest enough with herself to realize she was frustrated that she had no means to play him until she grasped what made him tick. She needed an inside grip on his psyche, one that gave her leverage to pry him open. She needed his Claim to give her a fingerhold into his psyche. But she also longed to know what a Sub who never behaved like a Sub might do to her in Castiel’s play room.

That was a whole different kind of guilt. April bit her lip and lowered her eyes.

He shifted to sit back on the couch. “You don’t need to be worried about the Claim, April. I’m not going to hurt you. We’re merely setting the scaffolding in place that we’ll need to understand one another. I am not a violent man, sweetheart. I won’t take you harder than I must.”

She chuckled softly and looked back up to the ceiling. “I’m not afraid, alpha. If anything, I’m looking forward to it. Cas will have to watch, and there’s no way he’ll let a Claim from you go unanswered. I may have trouble walking tomorrow. Or sitting. Or both,” she smiled softly at her own words. “But I’ll be primed to finish that song. It’s all going to feed on itself. Given enough motivation, this could turn into the defining song of my career.” She chuckled a little in thought, but she blushed when she found Cain staring at her. “Anyway…” she finished lamely.

Cain rubbed his brow stiffly and rolled himself to his feet. “Need help in here with the little ones?” he asked absently, changing the subject.

“Would you take Alex to Michael? I’m going to nurse the triplets before their bottles. I need a nap before lunch, and I’ve got Nick driving me crazy with panicky texts. You’d think he was the one who’d never opened a show before.”

Cain laughed and hoisted Alex to his shoulder. “Nicholas Maraby is infamous for his catastrophic meltdowns before opening night. Good luck with that, April. You’ve hitched your wagon to a tornado.”

“Terrific,” she deadpanned as she leaned up against the couch and unbuttoned her shirt. “God, I need a hard scene. I’m swirling so fast. Would you mind ducking your head in wherever Cas is and ask him to come check on me? I need…something. Something physical.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. I think this guy’s going to eat my chin if I don’t find him his O-Pop first though. Come on, chunky, let’s see if we can find you some lunch.” April reached for Emma as the alpha left. The pup latched on and settled in to nurse with the same easy shiftability she took to everything. April let her head fall back onto the couch cushion and closed her eyes to the sensation of her milk letting down and her hormones taking her floaty and content. It was quiet now in the big space. She could hear Jimmy and Kat wiggling happily beside her, and Idgie’s palm flattened over her breast as she set to work swallowing fast. The swirling slowed a little, the adrenalin that had spiked when April worked up the nerve to admit what she had in mind for her next big career statement was draining away, and her heartrate slowed. Nursing pups brought the pace of her turmoil to a gentle bubble instead of a hard boil. Everything misted over into a lax, filmy light, and she found her thoughts drifting idly into a comfortable softness. The pull at her nipple felt nice. The release of oxytocin spread from her body to fall like a blanket over her litter, and they all calmed to stillness. 

Thank the Universe for nursing and nursing hormones. It was a few brief moments of calm when everything else felt out of control. Emma wasn’t satisfied when April’s left breast waned its output, but the pup would have to wait for more from a bottle. It was Kat’s turn on the right side, and Jimmy got the rich, fatty after-flow from both breasts this round. They took turns and supplemented what April’s body couldn’t make up for with purchased human breastmilk. It was the best Papa could do for his pups, but he was determined to provide them with the real thing, and April couldn’t nourish all three by herself.

No one suggested Michael supplement with his own supply. Michael still had a pup of his own to feed, and Alex’s supply was for Alex. There were boundary lines that they needed to honor, and Cas hadn’t had any trouble finding wet nurses locally whose milk was plentiful.

April heard Michael saunter in with Alex already in place against his chest. He sat with practiced ease right on the floor beside her without dislodging his son, and April shifted to lean into him without opening her eyes. Michael rearranged his pup to keep Alex from kicking Emma in the head. He wrapped an arm around April and left a chaste kiss in her hair. They’d taken to sharing space at feeding time, bonding in a way no one else had access to share. Alex nursed efficiently, draining his mother rapidly and then turning a hungry eye upward to request solid food with wide eyes. He always finished first, leaving Michael free to help April shuffle tiny bodies. It had become a dance of sorts, one that the first pup to finish and the last one to eat set a timer against. If the mothers were too slow in processing through, both Alex and whoever was last at the nipple let them know in real time that they weren’t pleased.

Today, Jimmy was last. Michael burped babies while April finished up with her son, and they talked softly while they waited for him to finish, aware that Kat was running out of patience. She didn’t have much to start with.

“You seem a little down lately, Michael,” April observed lightly. “Something on your mind? Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m okay, Pete. Just tired.”

“You’re not ramping up with more baby cravings, are you? You had it bad. One pup might not feel like enough.”

He laughed. “One pup. Jesus, we have six. If I did start to feel that cramp in my gut, I’d take a Tums and squash it. No one’s sleeping as it is. I think Dean would have me committed if I wasn’t satisfied with pups for the moment.” Michael scooted closer to the spread blanket and rubbed Kat’s back with a firm hand.

“So it’s not that?” April let her question go open-ended, and Michael looked up at her.

He sighed through his nose. “No. It’s not that. God, they’re everything to me, Pete. Just look at them. They’re beautiful. I feel like for the first time in my life, I’m right where I belong doing exactly what I was born to do. And it’s not just being a mother. It’s everything. Managing the Pack, working with Fred and Phillip, studying to be a therapist, talking over the long game with Sam and Dean and Cas, helping Alpha figure out why I’m different from other Omegas... Pete, it’s overwhelming. I’m so blessed. I couldn’t have imagined two years ago what living this life could feel like. Jesus, just getting rid of that pain in my stomach and the constant insufferable longing to conceive – that’s massive. I can breathe again – more like, I can breathe for the first time. And I’m just waking up to realizing how much I’ve got, how I’ve landed right where I oughtta be.”

“But…” she prompted with an idle finger stroking Jimmy’s cheek while he suckled. 

Michael collapsed back against the couch and hid his face in his hands. “But the fog is back. I need a Release. And it’s bad, Pete. I’m getting itchy and irritable. I haven’t had it this bad since before college.”

“Dean could take care of that in about five minutes, Michael. He has to know, right?”

“Yeah.” Michael sat up again and crossed his feet in front of him, Omega-style. “Yeah, he knows. He’s waiting for me to say something. But I thought I had more time. I’m still nursing. It’s supposed to hold off until we wean. I’ve been pretending it’s just sleep deprivation.”

“Tcch!” April scoffed. “When are we ever that lucky? Alex is on solid food now. He’s nursing less. Hormones are shifting.”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“So talk to Dean. Tell him what you need…”

“I can’t. I’ve tried to get the words out, and they won’t come. He’s my Sub, Pete. My wolf won’t let me ask for this from him.”

“So do a big scene and fuck your way to a Release.”

“It’s too late for that,” Michael admitted. “I’m too deep.”

“I thought you could self-Release,” she reminded him gently.

“Only when the hormone level is low. Not when I’m swimming in it like this.”

April pursed her lips and waited for him to voice the obvious answer, but he didn’t. He stared up at the ceiling with each hand on a pup.

“Ask him, Michael. It’ll be better if you say it than if he has to act without a request.”

Michael knew she wasn’t talking about Dean. He’d come to the same conclusion, but events were in motion now. He wouldn’t need to ask. April watched him for a moment and then let it go. His face was too blank for it not to be intentional. He wasn’t going to say any more. She let the topic drop.

“I haven’t been much help getting ready for tonight,” April admitted. “Do you need anything else done?”

Michael chuckled. “You’ve got your hands full. Don’t worry about tonight. We have everything ready.”

“You and Dean are still going through with a surprise party? He’s not going to like it at all. You’re going to get your butts blistered for this. You know that.”

“Yeah, we know. That’s the plan, actually. Saves me from having to ask. I hate asking.”

“What are you two up to, Michael? It’s more than a surprise party, I take it.”

“You’ll see. Yeah, more than cake and streamers. It should be fun. Dean swears it’s going to be amazing.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“Plausible deniability,” he told her carefully. “Besides, the explosion is underway as we speak. You’ll find out soon enough. Alpha cornered me about it. I’m getting a powerful emotion from Dean right now. I think he’s getting called out. What are you sensing?”

“Oh. I had it muted.” April’s awareness turned inward, and her face drained of color. “Jesus, Michael! What have you two done? It’s his birthday, for crying out loud!” April stood up awkwardly and rebuttoned her shirt with one hand. “He’s livid. So, yeah, I think the surprise is busted.” 

Michael wasn’t alarmed. He lifted Emma and set her against her mother’s arm before lifting Kat carefully one-handed while balancing Alex against his collarbone. April followed him to the kitchen. From here, April could sense that the alphas were shouting at each other in Dean’s workshop through the garage. She sighed heavily. Why did Dean’s brat have to keep spoiling otherwise happy moments? Couldn’t they enjoy one Pack celebration without the need to torque her mate into a frenzy?

No, that wasn’t fair to Dean. April wasn’t worried about Castiel’s birthday. She wasn’t worried about his emotional state, or the respect he was due, or how he would feel. She was frustrated that her big brother snaked her plans for the evening, and her newly won self-awareness wasn’t hiding that revelation from her for once. Stoking the Alpha’s temper had clearly been both Subs’ plans, but Dean got there first. Cas, she’d finally acknowledged to herself, thrived best when he was crossed and he got a chance to boil hard and strike harder. He lived for the righteously indignant sneer of a man badly used.

And Dean got there first.

Damnit.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered with an eye toward the garage door. Michael laughed softly again. “This is funny to you?” She turned her ire on her boyfriend, but he wasn’t perturbed.

“Yeah, kind of,” he admitted. He settled Alex into his high chair and clipped Kat into her reclining bouncy seat. Feeding all four at once required the use of all of their hands, so they ate sitting in individual chairs. Tony had a tray ready with warm bottles and a simple lunch of mashed fresh foods for Alex.

“Can’t you guys surprise him without needing to piss him off?” April tried again. Maybe she could still salvage.

“Not if Dean’s plan is going to get any traction,” Michael told her. “Look, you go on. You’ve got an hour before Nick calls. Go take a nap. Put your bond back on mute. This is between Dean and Cas anyway. Tony and I have feeding time handled. Come here, Pete. Give me a kiss and relax.”

She gave him a kiss, a good one, a long one, but she didn’t relax. She pressed her forehead against his and rolled it a little. “I’m thrumming, Michael. I need my mate. If Dean stresses him out…”

“There’s enough to go round, Pete,” Michael reminded her softly. “You want me to send Cas up to you in a bit? He’s good at working with whatever time limit he’s given. You need something powerful from him? He can still do that. You know he can.”

April went for the honest answer. This mix-up wouldn’t have happened if she and Dean had compared notes sooner. “I wanted to turn tonight’s initiation ceremony into a scene, Michael. I know Dean had plans, but I didn’t know it was going to get this emotional. At this rate, there won’t be anything left for me.”

“You’ve got a C.F. to lean into tonight too, Pete,” Michael reminded her. “That’ll take some of the edge off.”

“I don’t want to take the edge off with Cain. I want Cas. I want Cas to make me hurt, and then I want you to kiss it all better. I want to be taken out of my head for a while and then slide back into myself with you making love to me.”

Michael’s jaw dropped. Was she saying what it sounded like? Was she abandoning the water-treading she’d forced on Michael for a renewed trek forward? “You…Pete, it’s been ages since you…” He frowned hard and pulled away to try to make sense of the message in her eyes. “Do you mean that?”

“Please, Michael. Tell me Dean isn’t going to ruin everything.”

Michael took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. “I missed you, Pete. Are we…? Are we okay?”

She sat sideways in his lap and felt him wrap his arms around her. “I missed you, too,” she admitted quietly. “I was hoping you’d wait for me to come back to you. I needed to do some thinking.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” he said. “But I missed you, is all. I was worried you were growing away from me, and I don’t want to be in your way…”

“No, Michael. I love you. I will always need you. I want to be with you. It was never you at all. It was me, and it was everything happening too fast. I can’t take it when it comes at me that fast. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to be back-burnered every time I feel overwhelmed.”

Michael kissed her softly. He whispered, aware that Tony was still moving about behind him. “I told you, Pete. Whatever you need. No questions asked. I’m here, baby. I’m not going away. I’m not mad. You are safe, and you are loved, and you have all the space you need to get a handle on it when it’s too much. I know. I feel that way too sometimes. And any time you need someone to hold your arms in close to your body to keep you from flying apart, I can do that. I’m here. If you want me to watch over Castiel tonight and keep him from spending it all in one place, if you want me later on when everyone else goes to sleep, I’m there. I’m so there, baby.”

She answered with a deep kiss that promised the world, and then she straightened herself, kissed each little head in sequence and left Michael in his stunned silence. Tony filled the space she left void, handing Michael a bowl of mashed carrots and settling in where he could hold two bottles at once, a towel slung over his shoulder. He said nothing. Michael glanced at him but took the out and didn’t talk. They fed pups without discussing the sea change that Tony had just witnessed. Michael prayed it was a sea change. April was a whirlwind at the best of times.

He prayed she wasn’t simply using him to get to Cas. That was as realistic an explanation as any other. But he’d promised not to ask questions or make demands. He could fill that need with Dean to his heart’s content, and his gut told him to continue to give April her head as she struggled to figure herself out. Omegas and rapid life changes were a traumatic combination. Michael blinked fast as a wave of foggy nausea swept through and then abated. He needed help. And fast.

 

 

 

“I can’t cancel on them, C.J. They’re already invited. They’ve all made plans to attend. Balthazar is bringing condoms in bulk. We’ve got tons of food coming. We’ve got a band booked, for fuck’s sake. For once in your life, can’t you just roll with it? It’s only a birthday! And it’s not just about you! We’re bringing Sarah and Cain into the Pack tonight. The twins just turned one. It’s more about the Pack as a whole anyway. Why do you gotta be a dick about it?”

It was the phrasing of Dean’s last sentence that finally clarified for Castiel what was happening. That was as provocative a sentence as Dean’s brat had in him. Cas rewound the last twenty minutes in his mind, hunting for clues he’d missed in his anger, and he found many of them. He’d been set up. Cas rubbed a hand hard across his mouth and turned away from his husband.

“Everyone from The Facility is invited?” he asked again. “Everyone?”

“Everyone who could get away is coming,” Dean replied carefully.

“The entire Contracting department?”

“Most of ‘em.”

“I didn’t approve this, Dean Michael. I should cancel the party and send you to bed with your ass throbbing and your belly empty. I am not pleased. At all.”

“Come on, Cas. Please don’t cancel. I’m sorry, all right?” Dean wheeled around to stand before him, his eyes wide and imploring. His likeness to Alex was a palpable thing when he pulled his brows up in desperate pleading like this.

“You’re not sorry.”

“You could make me sorry,” Dean wheedled. “If you wanted to.”

“Stop playing games, Winchester,” Cas instructed sternly. “What do you want?”

“It’s _your_ birthday, Alpha…”

Cas slammed his hand down hard on Dean’s work table, and Dean jumped. “What do you want?!” he shouted.

“I want you to make me sorry!” Dean shouted back, panting. They’d been going in circles for half an hour, feeling each other out, watching for telling moves, and Cas had had enough dancing.

He seethed at Dean. He took a bruising grip on Dean’s bicep and brought his face in very close to Dean’s. Cas could feel his husband’s breath catch, but his eyes didn’t waver. 

“Be very careful that you want what you’re asking for, Pet, because you won’t be permitted to change your mind if you provoke me.” Dean’s face appeared to take on a pink cast as Castiel’s eyes went entirely red. Tamping his anger to a dull thrum was no easy task. “You don’t call the shots, _Submissive._ You do as you’re told.”

“Yessir,” Dean whispered bravely.

“Is Michael in on this with you?”

“Not the details,” Dean admitted. “Just the plate count. And the band.”

“And April?”

“Nosir. She’s in the dark.”

“Anyone else? Pack rule number seven covers everyone in this Pack, alpha, not just you three.”

“Fred and Tony know there’s a party planned. Monique and Eunice are staying over to babysit.”

“I’m not talking about staff, and you know it,” Cas growled.

“No one else, Sir. Just me. And Michael to a lesser extent.”

Cas studied Dean’s face for a moment. “You want me to make you sorry,” he repeated, tasting each word. “And you invited every professional contractor we know to the premises for the occasion.”

“You know all of them, Sir,” Dean clarified. “You know them well. All of them.”

No strangers invited, Dean meant. Cas nodded gravely, tightening his lips across his teeth. “I see.”

“Sir, it’s not like that…” Dean tried, but Cas cut him off.

“Yes, it is.”

“Are you mad?”

Cas rolled his eyes and took a few steps back, releasing Dean, turning away.

“It’s a perfect opportunity, Alpha. You have to see that.” Dean followed his husband a couple of steps toward the kitchen door and then stopped. “Cas, please. I need…”

“Don’t,” Castiel told him, his voice hard. 

“Alpha, please.” Dean had dropped the brat tone. He was straight out begging now, and there was fear in his voice. 

Cas rounded on him. “When have I ever let you suffer without responding?” he asked rhetorically. “I don’t deserve this level of disrespect, Dean. We’re _married_ now. I expect to be at least a _part_ of the planning process if you have an idea you want to try. If you need something, I expect you to be honest with me!”

“I need you to punish me, Alpha,” Dean said fervently. His chest heaved in desperation. “I need to feel your anger. I’m…sorry, Cas. I need you to be angry, not just scening. Shit!”

Cas sighed sadly. “Jesus, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes hit the floor in shame. His chin quivered, and his face contorted with his attempt to fight off tears.

Cas swallowed hard. The silence lasted an age. “You deserve to be severely punished, Submissive,” he said at last. He stepped closer and lifted Dean’s chin to find his eyes. “That was unacceptable. I don’t accept it, Pet. Not from you, not from anyone. I’m going to punish you for attempting to force a scene on me that I had no hand in planning or consenting to, and your safeword is revoked for the duration. Do you understand me? I don’t know what you had planned, and I don’t care. We’re doing this _my_ way, not yours.”

“yessir,” Dean swallowed awkwardly with his chin still caught in Castiel’s palm.

Cas held him still for several breaths, and then he let him go. “Send Michael to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Dean turned at the door. His hand trembled on the doorknob. “Is the party canceled?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business at the moment,” said Cas bluntly.

“Sir,” Dean responded and ducked his head on the way in.

Cas reached through his bond for April while he waited, thinking. She was stressed, and he’d planned to see to her tonight after Cain set his Claim. Cas had been looking forward to that, but in his anticipation of covering the new alpha’s scent with his own, he’d missed Dean’s state of mind, and the brat found a way to correct his course. Dean had to have grown frantic to have pulled a stunt like this. April was resting. Cas could feel her. He could have pointed straight to her, so he knew she was in her own room, trying to sleep.

He nudged her softly, and he felt her return a sad resignation. He sent her a bolstering squeeze. He wasn’t about to let Dean’s brat steal critical time away from April. She needed her mate, and she would get him, just as he’d planned. He had room enough for both of them. He would _make_ room if he had to.

Michael slipped in through the door and nodded. Cas let his eyes clarify his intentions, and the Omega caught on at once. He dropped to his knees and lowered his face.

“Eyes up, Omega,” Cas corrected. He sauntered closer. “Tell me everything you know about Dean’s plan for tonight.”

Michael’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes shifted to gold between one blink and the next. “I don’t know much, Sir. I know he invited the entire Institute to dinner tonight after our Pack ceremony.”

“After, not during?” Cas asked.

“After, Sir. The initiation ceremony is Pack and invited friends only. The crowd doesn’t arrive until dinner afterward.”

“And there’s to be a band?”

Michael grimaced. “Yes, Sir.”

“Were you instructed to keep these plans private?”

“Yes, Sir,” Michael admitted, dropping his eyes.

“Look at me!” Cas commanded. The Omega’s head popped up. Michael panted hard. “You do not keep secrets from me, Michael, not even for your mate. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Am I clear?!”

“YesSIR!”

“When I’ve finished with you, you are to enlist Sam’s help, and the two of you are to move the oak breeding bench from the play room downstairs and put it in the Parlor. I want it right in the middle, facing the dining room door. After that, you’re confined to your bedroom until I call for you. Do you have any questions?”

“No, Alpha.”

“Is there anything else about tonight I need to know? Think carefully.”

“Sir, I have kind of a date to spend the night with April. That’s if it’s okay with you, obviously. She’s sort of expecting to scene with you after the party, and she asked if I would be available for her aftercare.” Michael’s face flinched with the effort to keep his eyes up. Cas stared hard. His jaw jumped and twitched as he ground his teeth. Michael wisely left his mouth closed after that.

“Yes, Michael. I will allow that. There’s no reason to punish April for Dean’s poor decisions, and I plan to leave them both weary tonight. She’ll need you.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Let me make something crystal clear to you, Omega,” Cas told him. “The experience I have planned for Dean tonight is between him and me. You will observe, but you will not participate. I expect you to play host to the wealth of guests you invited into our home without my permission, and I expect you to behave yourself and keep your eyes on your work. Dean is mine this evening. If you had alternate plans, that’s too bad. I’m taking custody of him under my authority as Alpha. I won’t hear a word of complaint. I don’t want to hear anything from you but ‘Yes, Sir’.”

“Yes, Sir,” Michael parroted, disheartened. This wasn’t going the way Dean had led him to expect. Michael had been looking forward to a solid, grounding Release from Castiel, a feeling of atonement that set his feet facing forward again and his head held high. And then a party like none he’d ever attended before, with a separate orgy in every room, and his Submissive at his heels doing anything Michael wanted him to do. But a breeding bench? That had not been part of the plan. What was the breeding bench for? 

Michael felt through to Dean’s head within his own, and he felt Dean focused, practically vibrating in anticipation, watching from afar. Dean wasn’t disappointed. He was cautiously thrilled. Did he know about the bench?

“Sir, I think he set me up.”

“Indeed?” Cas asked flatly, unsurprised. “Perhaps this experience will teach you to be more judicious about allowing yourself to play a role in his machinations. On your feet. Take off your pants. Brace your palms against the workbench here. Feet three feet apart. Watch where you step. There may be debris on the floor.”

Michael took his position. Cas tucked the tail of his shirt into his collar and then found himself a leather whetting strop hanging on the wall. He pinked Michael’s butt with his hand briefly, and then he wrapped the leather around his hand.

“Which rules, Omega?” he asked tersely.

“Rule three, Sir,” Michael replied clearly, squeezing his eyes closed. “Rule five. Rule seven.”

“And rule number one, Michael? I expect obedience from you in thought, spirit, and action. Inviting people to this house for an event I did not approve is disobedience, plain and simple.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Brace yourself.”

Cas applied the leather strap hard. Michael’s unscarred ass hadn’t felt leather in ages, and it showed in the tension across his shoulders and down his thighs, but Castiel wasn’t concerned with easing him back into it. Once he’d caught on to the ploy, it became clear that Michael was in on it, and that he meant to use it to force himself through his first post-pregnancy Release without having to ask Dean for it. Cas intended to disabuse him of that practice.

Michael Released in a powerful concussion, far more powerful than he was accustomed to, and his arms buckled. He caught himself on his elbows and buried his face in his arms as he began to cry loudly. Castiel didn’t pause. His hand ached from his grip on the leather. Michael’s backside turned brilliant red and sported swelling bruises where the strap hit hardest. Michael’s thighs trembled. He stood still though. He stood statue still.

He stood until the Alpha slowed to a tempered stop and braced a hand on his own knee to catch his breath. He didn’t leave Michael alone long. Standing upright again and clearing the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, still wrapped in leather, Cas let out a long weary breath. He stepped closer and rubbed Michael’s lower back. He untangled the strap and set it beside the Omega. He tugged at the tail of Michael’s shirt and let it hang low to cover his butt. He gently pried Michael up to standing and into his embrace, holding him tightly and whispering gentle words into his ear.

“I’m sorry, Alpha. I knew better, and I did it anyway. I’m sorry.” Michael clung to Cas, and the Alpha couldn’t keep from chuckling softly at him.

“You’re forgiven, sweet boy. I know that was scary for you, Michael. I know it’s difficult for you to ask. It’s been a very long time, and you’d forgotten how therapeutic a good strapping can be.”

Michael snorted.

“Please don’t goad me into it in the future. If you’d rather have me do it for a while than Dean, we’ll talk to him about that. I believe he won’t mind. He cares about you. We’ll take care of you, Michael Quentin, without the need for manipulations. I want you to learn to ask for what you need, and in that vein, if you ask either of us directly, we’ll keep it as short as we can. If you play us for a strapping, you’ll get far more than you need simply to Release. Think about what you’d rather experience.”

“I’m sorry, Alpha. It won’t happen again.”

Cas pressed him back by his shoulders and smiled kindly at him. “Yes, it will. Dean will see to that. Let’s try to keep it to a minimum though, shall we?”

Michael laughed through his tears and hugged Castiel hard. Cas hugged him back.

“Let’s get you dressed. Get Sam and go get me my bench. Then grab some water and go straight to your room.” Cas handed Michael his clothes and stood near enough to assist if Michael needed him.

“Sir, I’ve got the pups this afternoon. Pete’s waiting for a call from Nick. Dean’s finishing preparations for tonight.”

“I’ll take over with the pups, Omega. Leave them to me.”

“I’m missing the twins’ birthday party?”

“Yes, you are. Actions have consequences, Michael. You will stay in your room until the initiation ceremony.”

“Yessir.”

Cas followed Michael back through the garage and into the kitchen. Dean looked up hopefully, but his eyes went dark when he saw Michael’s face. Michael slipped past him without a word, and Dean turned to Cas instead. He had Jimmy on his lap as he oversaw Alex working a strawberry in a mesh bag into his mouth to gum at it as pink drool decorated his chin and throat.

“Where are the girls?” Cas asked, helping himself to Jimmy. His son melted into Castiel’s chest immediately, laying a weary head on his shoulder.

“They’re napping already,” Dean told him. “I put them down in the living room portable. Was just about to take junior there in too, but I couldn’t leave Ace by himself.”

“Is it so hard to say Alex?” Cas sniped.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me, but you don’t have to pick. You’ve never minded me calling him Ace before. It’s his initials, and it’s cute. Don’t go letting your irritation turn you prickly.”

Cas swayed with the baby on his shoulder, considering. Dean had slipped right back into his alpha. It was a stark reminder that the man had more control over himself than he seemed to at times.

“You’re right. I apologize. Call him Ace if you like. I need a few minutes to think tonight through. Will you excuse me, please? I’ll be in the living room with the triplets. Drop Alex by when he’s ready to nap.”

“Jesus, C.J.”

“No,” Cas dodged Dean’s effort to move closer. He put a hand up and turned his head, frowning. “No, not yet, Dean. I need to process. I am angry and hurt, and I can’t deal with myself and you at the same time just yet. I need some time.”

“Do I need to start making phone calls?” Dean asked, stepping back and turning his face to the floor, still alpha but juggling the repercussions of what his wolf had done. “Is the party off?”

“No. I’ve decided to allow the party to proceed.”

Dean’s head shot round. “Really? Are we still gonna…?”

“Yes,” Cas told him imperiously. “We’re still going to go through with a full scene, you and I, in full view of our guests, and without the safety net of your safeword – which is a moot distinction, I’m aware. But I am hoping the tone will deepen that much further once your wolf becomes attuned to the fact that it’s not his choice to avoid using it tonight. Tonight, that word doesn’t exist, Dean Michael.”

Dean licked his lips. 

“Now, if you will excuse me, I need to be alone for a bit.”

“Should I…? Should I prep…at all?” Dean’s face had paled, and Cas turned his head from the archway and regarded him coldly.

“Have I given you any instruction to that effect?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then I would think the answer is obvious.”

“Right. Yeah. Got it. Um…”

Dean stalled, staring at his husband’s back. Cas stood facing the Parlor, not leaving, but not giving him anything either.

“Cas, are we…? You know I love you, right? This isn’t about that. It’s not… I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“Do you need reassurance from me that my matrimonial bonds haven’t weakened?”

“Cas, just, talk to me, man.”

“I need some time, Dean. I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving you. Of course I love you. Can I please have a few minutes to myself before I slip and say something I don’t intend? May I have that, please? You know how difficult this is for me, and I’m not fighting one designation. I’ve got both of them clamoring at my breastbone at the moment. All I’m asking for is a little time to handle myself before I talk to you.”

“With the triplets?”

“The pups are not in any danger. They will be napping. What I need to work out is entirely internal. I need to think.”

“Yeah. Okay. I hear ya. I’ll, uh, I’ll be putting the final touches on the party decorations for the twins.”

“Thank you, Dean.” He vanished in a couple of strides, and Dean stared out the archway wordlessly, feeling like he’d fucked up harder than anything he’d ever done before, brat or otherwise. 

Dean was used to being corrected for his brat’s terrible choices, but Cas had never seemed this hurt before, not over a play like this one. Exasperated, exhausted, frustrated, yes. Angry, yes. Hurt? Never. And he’d never asked to be alone to think it through before either. Not like this.

Dean’s skull felt hollow. He had a buzzing in his ears, and his knees went weak. He sat down hard and stared at his hands in his lap. Alex banged on his highchair tray and sent the little mesh bag skittering across the tiles. Dean stooped to pick it up and tossed it into the sink. Alex screeched.

“Shh, that’s enough, Ace. You’ve eaten everything in the kitchen, sport. Let’s get you cleaned up, huh? It’s naptime.”

Dean thought hard while he scrubbed the pup clean. Cas would have given him the scene he wanted if he’d asked for it. They should have planned it together. But would it have been intense enough? That worry nagged at Dean constantly. He didn’t really believe either of his Doms would be able to roleplay the emotion he craved without a real provocation. He’d never needed to find out either. Provoking was his standard play. He’d always leaned into it, and Cas had always encouraged that. Dean’s brat was such a known quantity in his relationship with Cas that Cas had long since stopped judging Dean’s need to provoke. Why was tonight different?

Why was he hurt?

Because they were married?

How was that supposed to change the nature of Dean’s brat?

Tertiary wolves had no concept of marriage, so trying to explain the change to Dean’s Tertiary was a pointless effort.

Dean couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

He’d broken Pack rules. He knew that, acknowledged it, planned to pay for it. That was the whole point, really. Cas had to realize that having rules in place wasn’t going to make Dean behave 24/7. Didn’t he? Cas set April a billion pointless extra rules to give her something to press against so he could give her what she needed. Weren’t Dean’s rules the same? It didn’t mean he didn’t respect his Alpha. Hell, he depended on Cas enforcing the rules like they were laws of physics, like gravity.

Like Newton.

For every action, there would always be an equal and opposite reaction.

Was Cas under the impression that having married Dean, he’d no longer need to express impulses from his brat?

Jesus Christ, marriage was hard. Cas needed a home where he maintained full control. Dean knew that. But there was no way Dean was going to stop being a brat. He needed to stir that control into chaos and have Cas plant his feet and wrench it right back. What if their needs were so at odds they were in constant danger of hurting each other? What if what Dean needed and what Cas needed couldn’t be reconciled? He’d never really considered that.

What had he done?

“I think he’s clean, alpha,” Sam said with amusement from the archway.

Dean startled. He’d been wiping Alex’s hands again and again. His face was already scrubbed pink.

“Right.”

“What did you two do, anyway? Michael said he’s grounded to his room. Can’t even attend the birthday party. And did you see what Cas had us pull up to the front room?”

“Uh…”

“Whatever you did, I have no sympathy,” Sam stated. He opened the refrigerator and began pulling out the simple party snacks Tony prepped for them earlier.

“Yeah, I think I fucked up, Sammy. Not looking for sympathy, man. I, uh, I need to make it right. I did something.”

“Yeah, I get that. Looks like he’s gonna give you something in return. I gather that’s for you, not April.” Sam pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, toward the Parlor. Dean couldn’t resist looking. He carried Alex on his hip and stopped short at the archway.

“Oh, fuck,” he said softly.

“For you, then?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed. “Yeah, I did this to myself, man.”

Sam chuckled. “Good thing it’s just us here tonight, or that would get embarrassing as hell real fast.”

“About that…”

“What did you do?” Sam asked, his eyes going wide as he slammed the fridge and stood up very straight. Dean had his brother’s full attention.

“I, uh, may have invited a few people over tonight. You know, for supper. It’s Cas’ birthday. The Facility always throws him a big do, but it’s Saturday.”

“How many people, Dean?”

“Um, everyone?”

Sam looked from the smooth bench in the middle of the room and back to Dean.

“What am I missing?”

Dean sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I invited everyone without asking Alpha if it was okay. Or, you know, telling him they were coming. You know that bar scene I wanted to do a few months ago with Michael that made Cas see red? I was hoping to get the alternate version here tonight. I was so careful to make sure everyone attending was well known – no strangers.”

Sam gaped at him, blinking in confusion. “Do Cain and Sarah know? The whole fucking universe is going to see them naked and submissive, and you didn’t think to let the Pack know? Jesus, Dean.”

“No, no, just for dinner. Not for the initiation. Not for the Claiming. For the birthday dinner afterward. It’s just dinner. We got a band and a caterer to help Tony out. We got babysitting for all six pups. Eight! Eight pups! Benny’s coming, and he’s bringing his girls. It’s just a party. It’s not every day your husband turns thirty-seven. What’s the big deal? What’s so bad about a surprise party that I have to look at _that_ all afternoon?” Dean gestured violently toward the bench.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Sam said assertively, raising his palms and passing Dean to begin organizing the food for his sons’ birthday. “Babble innocent all you want. We both know better. You’re on your own in this one, Dean. Good luck.”

“You suck, Sammy. You’re not my brother.”

Sam burst out laughing. “You wish, jerk!”

“Bitch.”

 

 

 

By the time the puppy party was over and the initiation began, Dean was a nervous wreck. Cas let him fester, giving all his attention to the rest of his Pack. He clapped Cain on the shoulder with a warm word, and he doted affectionately on Sarah. When the Pack gathered tightly around in the living room and Cain stepped forward, Cas took his oaths like a king at court. The gravity suited Cain, whose long silver hair was tamed to hang down the back of his neck, tied for the occasion by a leather cord. 

Dean watched him carefully. He still hadn’t seen anything about the man that said Submissive, and Dean couldn’t get a handle on how someone so comfortably assertive could possibly test as a Sub. But when Castiel set his fingers atop the alpha’s carotid artery, Cain’s eyelids fluttered slightly, and all the tension fled his body. Just at the touch. And that clenched it. It was a subtle thing, very unlike Dean’s flagrant Tertiary. Cain’s was minute in need by comparison, but that was not a Neutral response. He really was a Sub. Dean could tell he was fighting an impulse to kneel, and Dean wondered if it took someone powerful like Cas to evoke a reaction like this. 

Dean wondered how Cain would react to Michael if an occasion ever warranted finding out.

Dean shared a quick glance with Jess and then with April. They’d both seen it, too. Clearly, Cain was the kind of Sub whose needs were fulfilled entirely through private intentional scening. Outside of the bedroom, not a whit showed to give him away. If anything, he appeared dominant in public carriage. Dean thought rapidly through the Doms on the Contract wing, wondering if any of them had the weight to handle Cain. Unlike Dean, who sometimes had to fight the desire to roll for the Neutrals on staff, Cain probably wouldn’t kneel for any but the most Profound Dominants. And he likely needed an alpha-Dominant at that; someone without a trace of humor to their play; someone like Raphael or Uriel, someone hard and unforgiving. Someone intense and somber.

Someone like Castiel?

Dean swallowed.

Castiel’s recitation of the oaths was spoken slowly and passionately, and Cain answered with the same sincerity. Dean hadn’t liked adding his name to the Pack filing at the County courthouse, but he knew better than to try to stand in the way of this. April needed the man. Cas needed the man. Without him, there was a chasm in the Pack that would prevent someone Dean dearly loved from living her fullest life, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let that happen just out of dislike of the prick with the shiny silver hair and the striking blue eyes.

It didn’t mean Dean expected to get close to the man or to make it six weeks without throwing down with him. Cain might spend _all_ of his time in his Secondary, but Dean’s was stronger. A lot stronger. And Dean wasn’t planning on pulling his punches when it came to a confrontation. Cain turned at the conclusion of the oaths, and he shot Dean a look of direct challenge. 

Dean grinned cheekily back at him. 

Fuck that guy. And his hair. _And_ his eyes.

If Sammy was taking a lower rung to this douchewad, Dean would make sure Cain earned it.

Not tonight, maybe. But eventually.

Cas invited Sarah to come forward as Cain retreated to dress. He signaled the ladies of the Pack to cluster in close to hide her nudity from everyone else. He smirked a bit when the women formed a tight circle and then turned their backs so that only Cas had a view of her naked body. The smirk was answered with a shy smile. He wasn’t laughing at her, and she knew that. He was pleased and proud that his Pack cared enough about her differences to adjust. He was a touch smug about it.

She breathed deeply though and stepped up in her birthday suit. She leaned her head to the side to give him her complete submission. Castiel’s smirk vanished. He regarded her seriously, and he nodded to himself at her appropriately lowered visage. He set fingers to her pulse point, and he intoned the oaths with gravity, meaning every word as always.

It had taken countless careful discussions to get them both to this point, and it felt like a suitable culmination. Sarah felt herself fill with an unexpectedly powerful emotion to the point that getting the words out was a challenge. They caught in her throat.

“I will, Alpha.” How hard was that? It was four simple syllables, and yet it felt momentous. Her parents hadn’t understood. They felt betrayed and abandoned. They’d told her so. They’d stopped short of saying, ‘If you do this, don’t come back’, but the words hung unsaid in the air before she’d left in tears. They didn’t understand. They didn’t understand what a family like this one felt like from the inside. They didn’t want to understand. They said she was being controlled, brainwashed, used. The irony was that she felt far more controlled at home with her own parents than she ever had here.

She wanted to look up at him, but she wasn’t allowed. It was a leap of faith. She could feel his fingers warm on her throat, could feel his eyes cool on her body. It all came down to trust. If she swore to him, it was forever.

Did she want that? Did she want to be a part of this world forever? To her left, along her line of sight, she could see Kali’s hip, her arm, her fingertips reaching blindly to the side, seeking, and Sarah saw Jess entwine her own fingers with Kali’s. No question. No ceremony. A simple seek and a simple acceptance. And Sarah pressed her lips together as her eyes welled with tears.

“I will, Alpha!” she blurted, blushing furiously.

Sarah could feel his smug amusement return, the bastard. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Well, screw him. He could be smug all he wanted. She was his now, and that meant he had a responsibility to help her when she began to second guess everything she did, when she fell hopelessly apart over her thesis, when she couldn’t decide whether or not to wear socks with slacks and she devolved into a pathetic puddle on her bedroom floor. She was his now, so he could be smug for now. He wouldn’t be laughing for long when he realized what a hot mess she was at her core and that forever went both ways.

It was over quickly, and April handed clothes in to her without breaking the circle. Sarah caught sight of the rest of the Pack over April’s shoulder and realized that they’d all turned their backs – all of them, including Fred in the doorway.

“You’re so very welcome here, beta,” Cas said once she was dressed, pulling her in for a tight hug that signaled everyone else that they could turn again.

“Thank you, Alpha. I’m proud to belong. I know what you’re risking by bringing me in.” She didn’t want to let go, and he waited her out.

“You let me worry about what I’m risking, Sarah. That’s not your job any longer.”

“Yes, Alpha,” she grinned.

Sarah stepped back.

Everyone wanted a hug. Sam got there first, a yearling pup clinging to his neck. Sarah hugged him hard and then stole Hank from him as he left her, laughing, to make way for Jess.

“Da!” shouted the boy, but Sarah distracted him with tickling kisses to his belly that set him laughing and clutching at her hair. Jess smiled warmly as she offered a hug. Sarah was happy to accept it. Jess was still a bit of an unknown variable to Sarah, but she showed no resentment whatsoever, either in the amount of Sam’s time Sarah claimed or in taking a lower rank to an ape. Sarah wasn’t naïve enough to assume Jess was that straightforward. But she wasn’t going to make waves unless Jess did. If fireworks were coming, they wouldn’t spark from Sarah.

“Quiet, please!” Cas called clearly. He hadn’t spoken all that loudly, but his voice cut through the hubbub like a guillotine. “Quiet. Thank you. We’ve got one critical alpha/Omega Claim to take care of this evening before we eat, and so that needs to happen now as we’re evidently expecting a slew of guests in the next few minutes. Cain, April, come with me. Dean, you too. Everyone else, please refresh your drinks and enjoy yourselves. We won’t be long.”

April followed with a quick kiss to Michael’s lips. Dean squeezed Michael’s hand as he too pulled away to follow his husband down the stairs at the back of the house. Castiel’s shoulders made a crisp line in his perfectly cut evening blazer. Cas was intimidating at the best of times. Tonight, he was downright scary.

At least to Dean.

April looked nervous, pale and tentative.

Cain looked to be talking himself up internally, giving his own silent personal pep talk. Dean fell in behind the man as Cain’s hand swept the leather tie from his hair and let his mane loose to flow about his shoulders. Dean jogged lightly down the steps behind them, affecting as unaffected a persona as he could swing while the breeding bench still sat alone upstairs, unacknowledged. From Cas he could feel a weighted sense of determination. This was going to be difficult to witness, but he needed to let it happen, and Dean needed his game face to be the support his husband required right at this moment.

Once inside the room, Dean caught April by the hand and reeled her in. “You okay, kid? Now’s the time to speak up if you’re not. We don’t have to do this today.”

“I’m ready, Dean. We’ve already put it off too long, and it’s making a mess of things. Alpha Cain and I, we need the connection. And I’ll admit, I’m not upset that he’s as handsome as he is. I’m…kind of looking forward to it. I know I won’t get to do this every day. But I do have a thing for blue eyes.”

Dean blew out a heavy breath. “Ahh, okay, if you say so. Better you than me. You just shout if you get into trouble, and I’m there, you got me? I’ll rip his dick right off if he hurts you.”

“Dean!” Cas called from across the room. There was no way he’d heard the threat, and he wouldn’t protest it if he had. Cas had likely told her the exact same thing.

“Coming, Alpha.” Dean dropped a kiss to her cheek, squeezed her shoulder, and left her to find Cas already in position in the middle of the space.

 

“We don’t stand on unnecessary ceremony in this Pack, Cain,” Cas told his subordinate who stood poised across the room from April. “I expect you to behave honorably and appropriately. You need to exit this room with a stable Claim-bond attaching you to April. I will not hinder that endeavor. You have my full permission, and April’s, to do what you must to attain that end. Dean? You’re second-ranked. He needs your permission as well.”

“Granted,” Dean’s alpha added succinctly as his eyes skirted the room carefully, checking that nothing was amiss.

Cas nodded once. “The floor is yours, Darius Cain.”

“Thank you, Alpha.” He turned his head to address the Omega. “April, Omega, undress yourself and present yourself on the bed. Wait for me there and don’t move.”

“Yes, alpha,” she whispered. Dean paced a slow stroll to stand on the opposite side of the bed from Cas, keeping his hands behind his back, not entirely trusting his own actions. April glanced at him, but she pulled her dress over her head and settled onto the bed in a perfectly formed Omega presentation posture. Dean could feel Cas react through his own bond with the man. 

April’s breasts were rounded and full, her areolas dark and swollen, her hips wider than they used to be, marked now with evocative squiggles that told the story of her proven fertility. To an alpha, everything about her was ripe and plump and perfect.

Cas wanted, but he was controlling his urges.

Dean decided that watching Cas took priority over watching Cain, and he set his feet. Cain let the Omega wait for a couple of minutes with her ass in the air. He peeled his clothes off slowly, deliberately, pacing. He came far too close to Dean’s spot for comfort, and Dean growled menacingly at him. Cain’s look was cool and unconcerned when he pivoted to pace the opposite direction. Dean didn’t care if he threw the asshole off his game other than that he didn’t want April to have to go through this twice – even if Cain had the bluest eyes in creation. Dean wasn’t going to tolerate posturing from the prick. 

Dare him to try that shit with Cas, Dean humphed to himself. The dude was cruising. Castiel cleared his throat, and Dean’s attention fell back across the bed to the man who stood with his knees locked and his hands tight across his chest.

Finally naked, Cain stroked himself slowly, bringing himself to attention and revving the alpha engines for go. On the bed, April squirmed impatiently. She had her head turned away from Dean, toward her mate, and Dean could smell her arousal. Her inner thighs glistened with slick. She hadn’t been kidding about looking forward to it. She was stoked.

She whimpered, and Cain snarled ferociously. And then he was on her. He flattened her body to the bed as his knees pressed outward against the insides of her thighs. His cock sank straight into her channel with no ugly thrusting, and he braced his grip against both of her shoulders. She cried out and struggled to get her knees beneath her, but his hips thrust hard, and she stayed flat. The musculature of Cain’s thighs proved that he meant to nail her in place and pin her there. He quivered slightly until she stopped squirming. Engaging his thighs, Cain pulled back to slam back down into her, and he growled menacingly.

He continued to grind a terrible growl from his throat as he fucked her hard. As he got going, slapping skin against her ass, her body went limp, and he groaned in pleasure and hoisted her hips higher with both hands, setting his knees and upping the pace until his face turned red.

Dean watched Castiel. The Alpha’s hands twitched. He clutched at his own biceps with his arms crossed tightly. His nostrils flared. His lip curled. His eyes stayed glued to April’s face. Based upon his line of sight, he was holding eye contact with his mate the entire time, and it was pushing him right up to his limit. 

And they said Dean was a brat. 

Luckily, it didn’t take long. Dean had witnessed enough C.F.s to know that Cain had a good one going. April was in full Submission, and Cain had his knot embedded as he raised his head high, clenched his eyes tightly closed, and pulled hard with both hands at her hips, forcing her up and nearly into his lap as he came with a deeply satisfied guttural groan. The Claim followed his vocalization. It was almost a lazy sensation after the aggression of his assault, but it was clearly a Claim, and Dean watched Cas inhale when he felt it. April’s toes curled, and Castiel mirrored her with his fingers, digging stressed divots into the flesh of his own arms.

Cain was locked into her. He panted over her back, curling up tightly and sitting back on his heels. He wrapped an arm around her belly to support her in his lap. He buried his face inside the curtain of his silver hair, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades. April stayed totally still, less out of breath than the alpha she was tied to. She was still looking at her mate.

Cas looked to be fuming. Dean sauntered back around to stand in front of him and pull Cas’ arms over his shoulders. The Alpha allowed the impertinence, but Dean could feel that he was still tense from the tips of his ears to his toenails.

“He’s Pack, Alpha,” Dean reminded him. “Breathe for me. It’s okay. She’s okay.”

“Are you pleased with yourself?” Cas asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Dean said, turning to look at his husband, but Cas wasn’t talking to him. He was speaking to April.

“No, Alpha,” April responded softly. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll see,” Cas replied. He turned his eyes to Cain. “When you’ve untied, clean up, both of you, and come back upstairs. We’ve a party to attend.” Cas pulled away from Dean and turned on his heel, but he caught Dean’s fingertips with his own and tugged. Dean stumbled into motion, jogging softly to keep up.

“You’re going to leave them like that?” Dean asked, looking back over his shoulder. “How do you know he won’t take advantage?”

“ _He_ won’t,” Cas told him, taking the stairs three at a time. “And she already did.”

“Oh, come on, Alpha. So she got turned on with having you watch. That’s a common kink for Ozzies. You can’t blame her for taking the opportunity when it was there. Doesn’t mean she’s going to fuck him randomly from now on. In fact, the fact she was so blatant about it this time proves she’s not planning to make a habit of it. She probably saw this as her one and only chance to see you watch her take another alpha’s Claim. She was probably hoping you’d be proud of how well-behaved she was.”

Cas stopped abruptly in the foyer and rounded on him. “Don’t help, Dean. You’re in enough trouble tonight as it is without adding meddling to your list of transgressions. I know exactly what she was doing. I watched her do it from a vantage point you lacked, both physically and metaphysically, and I’m not overreacting. She pulled the same fucking stunt you did! She goaded me deliberately to earn a powerful response. Now. I know of two reliable responses to that kind of behavior if I don’t want to encourage it, and those are: one, to refuse to play the game.” 

Dean swallowed.

“And two, to apply a response so unpleasant that the culprit will think twice before attempting it again.”

“Sir.”

“Don’t speak until I tell you to.” Cas began stalking again, noting that the band was setting up in the corner of the foyer and buffet tables were draped in white cloths. Lit warmers kept hot dishes ready to serve. Small tables surrounded by empty chairs now dotted the Parlor and the Foyer. “Here’s what’s going to happen tonight, Pet. You’re the centerpiece to my birthday party. I will bind you if you need me to. You are for everyone’s enjoyment. You will not say no. You will not safeword. I will be keeping watch, and I – and I alone – will decide when you’ve had enough. Do you have any questions?”

“Where’s Michael going to be?”

“Michael has forfeited privileges of participation this evening. He will be seeing to the welfare of the guests.”

“He’s not…helping direct?”

“No. Is that what you promised him?” Cas asked. His eyes blazed.

“It’s just a surprise party, C.J. I’m sorry we took advantage and made out like we didn’t know this crowd would expect an orgy. Yeah, that was gonna be a part of it. But I never meant to make you feel like you had no control over your own house. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“We’ll discuss it in full tomorrow, Dean. Look me in the eyes right now and don’t say a word.” Cas grasped Dean’s chin and studied the depth of his eyes. Dean’s body twitched with the need to sink to his knees, but Cas held him. He was assessing Dean’s condition, searching his wolf. There may have been no safeword in play, but Castiel wasn’t about to put his best toy up for handling if it was weakened or damaged. Or scared.

Or unwilling.

Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. He patted Dean’s cheek a couple of times in a patronizing manner, and he nodded firmly. “Go use the toilet and clean up. Come back here when you’re ready and take your place. Wear nothing. Bring nothing. Say nothing. Kneel in the doorway until I come for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 will be along before I go back to work in a week.


	6. June 30, 2018 Part 2 of 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's being punished, sort of. This is a punishment? More like an endurance test. It's all about the headgames though, more than the physical stuff. Also, April's being punished, and this one isn't vague at all. And in the morning, what's Sarah been up to, and will she be next in line for the strap?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See End Notes for warnings.
> 
> This is pure sticky, messy smut. Not sorry. Also, the breeding bench - you can blame [KreweOfImp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KreweOfImp/pseuds/KreweOfImp) for that idea. This is for you, love. I didn't forget.
> 
> I hope everyone has a lovely and spooky Halloween.
> 
> As always, I feel like I'm forgetting something. Grrrr.

 

 

 

June 30, 2018 

 

Cas patted Dean’s cheek a couple of times in a patronizing manner, and he nodded firmly. “Go use the toilet and clean up. Come back here when you’re ready and take your place. Wear nothing. Bring nothing. Say nothing. Kneel in the doorway until I come for you.”

“Do I get dinner?” Dean asked carefully. “Sir?”

“Officially, no,” Cas told him without looking. He’d turned to watch Michael answer the door. “You have twenty minutes to take your assigned position. However, I have no intention of watching which door you leave through. I believe you may find there are snacks available in the kitchen. Don’t let me catch you eating. You’re dismissed, Pet.” Cas didn’t spare him so much as a peck on the cheek. He smiled broadly at Pam as she and Rufus stepped in through the wide door. He went to them in welcome, leaving Dean alone. Dean waved sadly at his friends, but he slipped through the Parlor, past the heavy monstrosity in the center of the room and into the kitchen. Tony was orchestrating chaos.

“You got anything quick and simple, Tones?” Dean asked him, surveying the trays. “Something that won’t upset a queasy belly?”

Tony handed him a plate of avocado toast, a few cheese cubes, and some ripe cherries. Dean made a disgusted face, but he took the plate and trudged up the back stairs to undress in his own room.

By Castiel’s description, Dean was about to experience exactly what he had been hoping for, although it fell short for Michael. Cas was granting him the scene he wanted.

Why didn’t it feel like a victory, then?

Dean spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom. He forced down a few cherries and three bites of the toast before giving it up for a lost cause. He stood before his bathroom mirror, stared into his own eyes, and tried to find something in the moment to cling to, to make sense of what he was feeling. Dean summoned everything he could remember of his long nights spent dreaming of a scene like tonight’s, but he couldn’t get a handle on what he’d expected it to feel like.

Not like this, surely.

Dean’s green eyes in the mirror made no sense to him whatsoever. The freckles spattered over his nose, the cleft in his chin, the way his gelled hair flew artfully upward above his forehead – it was all an unrelated mix of random characteristics. It was bullshit, was what it was. People called him pretty, handsome, attractive. He’d been called every superlative imaginable, but the face reflected in his mirror wasn’t superlative. It was…unremarkable at the very least.

Dean didn’t actually have anything to offer to anyone. Nothing of substance, anyway. He had his Submission, and a perky voice in his head suggested hopefully that that wasn’t nothing. It meant something – to Michael. To Sam, even. To Cas – unless Dean broke faith and overstepped his boundary lines to take what wasn’t his and play game-maker. That’s not what people wanted from a Submissive. Dean bit his lower lip. He watched himself do it in the mirror.

It was remorse he was feeling, he decided – the piece that was screwing up his anticipation for tonight. It was remorse.

Ugh, not his favorite sensation.

It occurred suddenly to Dean that this guilt-ridden headspace was one he was intimately familiar with, and he wondered in an offhand, unrelated sort of way, if Castiel was maybe not actually hurt at all. Dean blinked at the idea. Cas would have read Dean’s desperation in his actions, and he would have responded appropriately. Dean had needed cold, powerful, angry, vengeful, rebuffing – distant. He’d wanted to be _punished,_ not just played with.

An odd scoff-sound bubbled from his throat. Hurt or not, Cas was providing Dean exactly what he needed, what he’d wanted, to the very best of his ability. Dean fingered his wedding ring with his thumb and pinky, not looking at it.

How much must the man actually love him to allow Dean to co-opt his birthday for a selfish romp through a sweaty, screaming, lust-filled orgy for one?

Dean bit his lip again at that epiphany. He needed to speak with Tessa. He was still doing it. He was still testing the limits of his husband’s affection. He’d stolen Castiel’s birthday for his own ends, and Cas was letting him do it. Cas was throwing all in to make it everything Dean had longed for.

Why the fuck was this shit never clear to him until it was too late?

He checked the clock on the wall, pulsed on the balls of his feet a few times, clapped his hands to break himself out of the haze, and stepped lightly back down to the Parlor. It was too late to nix it now anyway. It was entirely likely that Castiel had predicted Dean would feel like a heel as the moment drew closer and try to pull out. But Cas had taken his safeword from him. There was no pulling out. It wasn’t in Dean’s hands any longer; it was in Castiel’s.

Whether it was a roleplay on Castiel’s part or not, if Cas was committed, Dean was committed. Someone wolf-whistled at him as he skipped naked down the grand staircase. Someone jeered. Someone clapped slowly and called out an appreciative cheer. Dean kept his eyes on the floor in front of his feet, and he didn’t answer. His ears went bright red. Dean didn’t know where Michael was. Their bonds were open, but Dean wasn’t watching Michael. His eyelids fluttered as he folded himself to his knees just inside the Parlor entrance. Castiel wasn’t in the room, so Dean set his gaze on the foot of an end table, going blank in his head. Blank was easier than trying to examine the impulses all vying to take him to a false front. He was determined not to do that.

His palms felt clammy on his thighs. The breeding bench drew his eye and fucked up his breathing, and he had to wrench himself back into place more than once. The house filled up as Dean knelt in perfect position. Some people talked about him. No one talked to him.

A hollow ache began in his chest, an ache to see his Dominant’s cold blue eyes register approval, or register anything at all. He needed Cas, and the longer he waited, the deeper the ache grew.

Dean saw Michael chatting cheerfully with some of Dean’s colleagues, pointing them toward the various buffets and the bar. Michael was beautiful, dressed smartly in a dark blue button-down and a pair of crisp slate slacks, but he didn’t so much as glance at Dean. Dean may as well have been a decorative vase for all the attention the Pack paid him. Obviously, Cas had spoken to everyone.

April was nude, but she was otherwise unbound by designations. She seemed to be enjoying herself immensely, oblivious to or at least unbothered by the post-partum changes to her physique. Attending naked likely had nothing to do with showing herself off and everything to do with affecting her mate on his birthday. Dean expected she probably still carried Cain’s scent higher than Castiel’s for the moment, so it was entirely possible that she hadn’t finished torqueing her mate quite yet. Still waters ran deep between Cas and his mate, and Dean was aware he didn’t know the half of it. Whatever she’d done to rile the Alpha during Cain’s Claim was muted for now. And Dean knew better than to allow his mind to wander while he was working.

He got no warning, not even an incoming scent, before his head was wrenched painfully back by a grip to his hair. Dean sucked in a loud surprised breath. His eyes searched upward and found his husband glowering down at him. He felt a ping in his chest and a shudder traverse his body.

After all the intervening years, it still felt as powerful as that very first time Alpha had looked at him with this expression. Dean’s skin flushed with adrenalin. His cock tingled and swelled. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too wrenched.

“Your attention, please!” Castiel called, his eyes leaving Dean and casting about. “Your attention, folks! Settle down for a moment, please.” Cas waited for everyone to quiet, many guests shuffling in from the foyer and the kitchen so they could see and hear him. “I thank you all for coming to help me celebrate my birthday. I’m sure many of you know how grateful I am that you all went so out of your way to make the occasion momentous.”

There was an uncomfortable shuffling murmuration. They knew. Cas hated to have his birthday celebrated. His grip in Dean’s hair remained hard enough to pull the flesh of Dean’s temples tight across his eyes. Dean huffed. Cas ignored him.

“As it is my birthday, I feel it suitable that the entertainment this evening be oriented to my tastes. My beloved has graciously offered to sacrifice himself to that end, and I am happy to accept his offer.”

Cas waited for the excited cacophony to die down. All eyes fixed on the breeding bench, and the Alpha let their imaginations play for a bit before raising his free hand to call for quiet.

“I invite you to partake of him this evening.”

The room erupted again with cheers, with shouted questions, with claimants and promises and jockeying for position. Dean felt his fingers and toes go numb. Castiel waited for the noise to die down. Dean stopped breathing the instant his husband’s full intent crystalized. Cas wasn’t going to be using the breeding bench himself at all tonight. Nor was Michael. The bench was for the party-goers, for the invited guests.

For the guests that Dean had invited without authorization, and for Dean himself.

It was the scene Dean had been craving, but without the delectable promise of husband and mate in the mix. Right here was the rejection that turned it from play to punishment, and a whimper escaped Dean’s throat. Again, Castiel ignored him.

Finally, the Alpha spoke again, and the room shushed itself back into silence. “The rules are simple. You may do to him whatever you like while he is in position on the bench, provided you are in suitable condition yourself to pass through the ACRI turnstile on a Class A matrix. I have custody of the sign-up sheet myself. No one touches him except through the list, and that means you go through me. I expect to be informed and to approve or reject every touch to his body. No one will vary from what they’ve been approved to do. If you are removed from your place for violating that policy, it’s final. My word is law, as is Michael’s. Michael speaks with my voice, and I will tolerate no pushback to his decisions. The festivities end at my discretion. Do not draw blood from my husband. However, I encourage you to inflict pain. Believe me, he’s earned it. Are there any questions?”

Balthazar raised his hand and spoke loudly. “You don’t mind if we get squishy together somewhere off on our own, do you, Alpha? This isn’t one of those parties where we all have to wait our turn to get off?”

Cas laughed good-naturedly. “Balthazar, if I made you wait all evening for one turn, I have no doubt you’d be gone before the second round of drinks is served. It’s a party, Omega. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy each other. Don’t break anything. Don’t put yourselves into a state that will hinder your functionality at work on Monday. I will have no patience for lingering hangovers or shared STD’s.”

“Excellent!” Balthazar gloated. He rubbed his hands enthusiastically in anticipation. “Dibs on the kitchen table! All comers welcome.”

“Quite,” Cas said. “All right, folks. That’s the long and short of it. Please enjoy yourselves, and thank you again for coming.” To Dean he said sternly, “Come with me.” Cas lifted his Sub by his hair and led him to the breeding bench. The crowd stayed to watch him take his place and to get their names on the list. Cas wasted no time in placing Dean on the bench. It had angled supports down the length of his inner thighs that forced his legs wide. His knees and elbows rested on comfortable moisture-proof pads, and his head could rest downward, supported by a padded donut, or the support could be modified to grant access to his mouth. Cas left the circular head-support lowered for now. Dean could rest his chin on it at the hinge to protect his neck from strain, but the party-goers could have him lift up to accept something into his mouth at will.

Dean took a moment to get his balance and find a comfortable resting position. He was going to be here for hours. That much he knew.

“Cuffs, Pet?”

“No, Sir,” Dean answered, his ears ringing.

“Are you sure? I won’t tolerate you making use of your hands. You would do well to ask for binding if you suspect moving will be a temptation.”

“No, Sir,” Dean repeated. The punishment was taking shape in his head, and with it, a determination to perform at the pinnacle of his capacity. He needed to earn his way back into the warmth of those blue eyes. Whether the hurt Cas showed had been real or faked, and Dean suspected more than a grain of it was real, he deserved recompense from his Sub, and he would get the whole nine if it killed Dean.

“Would you like a gag? Your mouth needs to be accessible, but I can offer you a ring.”

“No, thank you.”

“Blindfold?” Cas asked, and this one was a little tougher. Remaining compliant would be easier if he couldn’t see. “Pet?”

“No, Sir. I can be good without a blindfold.”

“Dean,” Cas admonished. “Don’t be prideful. Last chance.”

“I can do it, Sir,” Dean answered as Michael tipped a bottle of water to his lips and then coated his lips with a thin layer of Vaseline.

“Very well. On your head, be it.” Cas looked up from his Sub, but he ran a warm hand through Dean’s hair, tugging hard a couple of times in the way he knew grounded Dean. He nodded acknowledgment to Michael. A rough and shoving line of petitioners had formed at his back, and Cas laughed at their enthusiasm. “So tidy for me. All right. Follow me. Let’s get this list going, shall we? Sam, would you please warm him up for us? I’ll be right back.”

Dean sighed as he watched Cas disappear with his following – a Pied Piper of sorts. He squeezed his fists around the hand grips and forced his breath to slow down. He turned back to the front and found Michael back in front of him, watching almost idly as he ate a petite four. Michael didn’t have anything to say, and he wandered away at Balthazar’s summons as if Dean were no more than a piñata whose contents Michael didn’t find appetizing.

The empty space in Dean’s chest widened to a chasm.

Pain erupted at Dean’s backside as his brother’s hand came down hard, and Dean grunted. It was going to be a long night.

In the foyer, the band kicked off, starting with a cheerful zydeco dance set to set the festive mood, and Dean’s eyes watered at the familiar span of Sam’s enormous palm across his butt. The band was positioned to see straight through to the Parlor. They had a ringside seat to everything. Sam’s hand fell again and again.

The doorbell rang.

Fred answered it, and this time, he left it slightly ajar once the guests were welcomed in. Michael came to collect people, to welcome them, to explain the rules and point them toward where the list was being assembled.

A belly appeared in front of Dean’s face. Dean’s eyes crossed as he tried to focus on the happy trail that led to a hard and pulsing prick right in his face. He dropped his jaw as Kevin’s hand took hold of his hair and fed himself into Dean’s mouth. Kevin was Dean’s subordinate at work, and a mild, shy researcher who preferred to work with as few people as possible. Not tonight though. An event like this, all outside relationships were suspended. Sexual orientation didn’t matter much either. Tonight was all Tertiary, and even an uncomplicated Neutral wolf like Kevin’s turned lustful when presented with a succulent piglet-on-platter like this. They would all ramp up fast once pheromones began flowing into the air.

They would be lucky to end the night with no new Matings.

Sam chuckled and rubbed a farewell to Dean’s back. If the raunchy stuff was starting, Sam was through. He’d left a good starter-sting on Dean’s backside, but he had no interest in sticking around to watch his brother descend into slobbery sub-space. Kevin moaned as he fucked Dean’s throat slowly. Dean pulled his lips in to cover his teeth and allowed the beta to do whatever he wanted.

Behind him, Dean felt hands on his ass, on his back, down his thighs, cupping his balls. He closed his eyes.

They were just getting started. The party took on a festive feel as more people arrived and drinks began to flow. Kevin didn’t last long. He pulled out and spilled across Dean’s lower lip, then rubbed his spunk into Dean’s lips and over his chin. Dean didn’t look up at him. Kevin stepped back and hailed Charlie enthusiastically as he zipped up, leaving Dean without a word.

Someone spanked him again, and Dean gasped. His eyelids fluttered, and he nearly rubbed them before remembering not to move his hands. His mind whirled in anticipation, anxiety, and excitement. The spanking hurt, and his dick pulsed with every hit. Dean sniffed the air looking for a scent. He had no idea at first whose hand was turning his ass red, but they were good at it. Dean concentrated on the style.

It was Benny, wasn’t it? Dean let his chin fall to rest on the support. It _was_ Benny. He knew that hand. He heard a happy chuckle behind him.

Benny.

“You sure got him turned around tonight, pup,” Benny told the Sub. “Never seen him so stoked. Hope you can handle what he’s fixing to dish.” Benny’s hand landed again, and Dean grunted involuntarily. It was a tight contest between Benny and Sam as to who was the master at this. It came more naturally to Sam, but Benny had more experience. Dean’s toes curled. He could feel jizz flaking on his chin. He didn’t lick it off his lips. In truth, there was no contest. Cas was the master. Where was he right now? Benny’s hand fell again. Dean grimaced more in longing for the hand he craved than from the pain. Where was Cas?

He wasn’t floating yet. He pursed his lips, turned to rest a cheek on the pad, and stared out the back window to the pool. People were swimming naked, jumping in with great splashes and making out along the edge. The patio and pool lights were on, turning the back patio into a glistening diorama of playful sex. Some of the guests were shedding their clothes at the door once they caught on to the flavor of the evening. Another dick filled Dean’s eyesight and his mouth, and he closed his eyes, breathing through his nose as he righted his posture.

He shuddered as a tongue touched his hole, lapping enthusiastically at him and sending shivers up his back.

‘Oh, now we’re talking’, he thought, breathing carefully. He could pretend it was Castiel if he tried.

He felt Michael in his head, and he opened up wide inside to share everything with his mate. Michael was maintaining a careful distance emotionally, but he was aroused and watching closely. Whatever Balthazar had summoned Michael for wasn’t directly sexual. Michael was clearly abstaining. Was that at Castiel’s direction or out of fidelity to Dean? Surely Michael knew Dean never intended his mate to try to stay that loyal. Right? The wolves didn’t hold orgy parties as frequently as Primates assumed, but when they did, every assumption the apes put forth as evidence of their degenerate lifestyle…it was all true. Within limits.

Come painted Dean’s brow and the bridge of his nose, making him flinch to keep it out of his eyes. Someone’s spent dick served as a rude paintbrush, making a mess of Dean’s face before a soft pair of lips kissed him goodbye and deserted him to his view of the pool and dining room again. Dean made no effort to discover who that had been. He was beginning to sink under. The tongue behind him felt good, really good, and it mixed rapturously with the pulse of sting Benny had set to his backside.

Someone sucked Dean’s cock all the way to the back of their throat, and he shouted in surprise. His grip tightened, and his hole clenched.

He was spanked heartily for that, but he was floating now, and his eyes went dazed, unfocused.

It wasn’t Cas after all. It wasn’t.

In front, wide-spread thighs, held high off the ground presented a clit to him, already engorged and wet, clearly pre-prepared. Dean went to work on it, letting the scent of sex catch him, whirl him higher. The woman, whoever she was, braced herself on Dean’s shoulders while an alpha woman fucked her ass hard from behind, holding her legs wide to give Dean access. The thrusts pressed her into Dean’s face, into his chin and his nose and his mouth, hard enough to make tonguing her clitoris a challenge.

She moaned and cried out. Meg, Dean determined. Of course it was Meg. He should’ve recognized her scent. He knew Meg. And if it was Meg’s pussy in his face, that was probably Lisa fucking her from behind. He kept his eyes closed to keep him from getting dizzy with the proximity, but in his mind, he imagined Lisa tweaking a hard nipple while Meg’s mate watched lazily.

Dean was going to tumble hard if the tongue at his ass and the mouth on his cock didn’t ease off soon. He was so turned on, he was losing the capacity to think. Things were moving too fast. It was too much.

And his Dom was nowhere close enough to see how good Dean was being, how he was throwing everything he had into it. He was on his very best behavior. Where was Cas?

Meg ground in hard, digging her hands into his shoulders and thrusting her hips into his face. She came with a scream, and Dean helped her through it. She disappeared without a word of thanks. Dean blinked at the empty space she left, watching Lisa’s bare back as the alpha carried her away.

Castiel was leaning against the back wall beside the window to the patio with a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. He wasn’t speaking to anyone. He was simply watching Dean’s face with an unaffected expression as Dean felt a new touch to his ass. Cas betrayed no emotion, either in his expression or through his bond. The approval Dean looked for was absent. Dean would need to work harder.

Dean watched through the haze in his mind as Michael stepped up to Cas with a worried expression, pointing the way Lisa had gone with her conquest, and challenging Castiel’s decision to put a woman on Dean’s menu, and Dean watched Cas reassure Michael that he knew what he was doing. Dean couldn’t hear them, but he could feel them both.

He could tell Michael was searching him for an indication of what such an encounter in this setting might mean to Dean, and he seemed to be open to trusting Castiel – a fact that clearly pleased the Alpha no end. Cas left a soft kiss on Michael’s lips and dismissed him gently. Dean lowered his eyes, offering his mate no intentional reassurance of his own, but no anxiety either. He’d let Cas have that privilege tonight. Besides, If Michael had been paying attention to what Dean sent him, he’d already have been reassured. This situation wasn’t a normal one. It was punishment. Unless someone began carving on him with a butcher’s knife… Michael didn’t really get it yet, Dean’s need to obey. But Cas did. What was the challenge in obedience if everything asked of you was easy?

Dean licked his lips. Someone’s lubed fingers breached him from behind as a new mouth took his cock. Michael gone, Dean raised his eyes again. He held Castiel’s eye as he’d been taught to do, and the Dom’s brow went up infinitesimally. Dean didn’t blink. But he panted slightly. Cas smirked and walked away. Dean couldn’t see him, but now he could hear his husband’s voice over the band, over the susurration of voices. Cas was speaking to Bobby and Ellen, and he sounded utterly relaxed, pleased to have his larger pack celebrate his birthday.

Dean’s brow knit in concentration as two fingers switched to three and the thrusting picked up force. That goddamned mouth on his dick was the real issue though. Dean knew if he came, the touches wouldn’t stop. And what had begun with pleasure would turn rapidly to overstimulated agony.

That was what Castiel was waiting for. Being good through the preliminaries was no challenge. How would he fare when the tingles turned to irritation or to friction-fueled pain?

He gripped the handles harder, and he huffed to bring himself back down.

The mouth disappeared. He heard Aaron groan as he extricated himself from under the bench with a complaint that he couldn’t get comfortable under there. The bench was low enough that both Dean’s mouth and his ass were at fucking height. The furniture manufacturer hadn’t counted on anyone caring about accessing the Bottom’s genitals from underneath.

Dean dropped his head onto the support and panted in relief. He was sweating. His forehead jostled with the thrusts from what had to be four fingers at this point, but this he could handle. The swirl in his head took on a longing tone. He couldn’t resist comparing the technique back there to his husband’s, to his mate’s. Whoever it was had a practiced, professional touch, but they weren’t Dean’s Dominants, and he ached with the lack.

He knew people were saying things in observation, things about him, about his designation, his form, his Submission, about his shift into public play. These people were Dean’s family. They knew him intimately, if not _that_ intimately. The comments flitted in and out of Dean’s ears without landing. He was past the point where he could comprehend them. Every ounce of attention he had was pointed to keeping his hands and knees where they were and in being ready for the next touch, toward being good for Castiel, whether the Dominant was watching actively or not.

This was how he earned his way back into Castiel’s good graces, and Dean wanted back in with all his heart. He never thought once about pulling on a mask of showmanship. He was too deeply fixated on Castiel to think about his own presentation. It wasn’t punishment; it was atonement.

The first cock to breach him was Cain’s. And it hurt like fire. Dean didn’t so much as twitch. The alpha fucked aggressively with his feet planted wide and a palm in the center of Dean’s back, and he left a Claim in his wake and a dribble of come on the rug beneath the bench when he left. Dean drooled a little, but he didn’t otherwise register the transaction consciously.

His mouth was kept busy, and his ass stretched wide. Sometimes people played with his cock, squeezed his knot, suckled his balls.

Dean breathed. His eyes glazed over.

Where was Cas?

Jack sidled up between Dean’s thighs with his mouth on his mate’s and laid her right on top of Dean, back to back. He leaned over the two of them as he entered her, kissing her breasts with a loud sucking sound and enjoying a slow languorous fuck, using Dean as a tabletop and ignoring him otherwise.

Dean used the respite to re-center himself and find his grounding again. He watched Ketch through the window landing hard swats to Meg’s bare ass out on the patio. He watched Ketch slide his belt out of its loops as Meg turned her head and winked at Dean, holding his eyes through the first painful blows before Uriel’s cock filled Dean’s view.

Jack used Dean’s shoulders to give him leverage, shaking the whole structure once he really found his rhythm. Jo screamed and threw her head back until she was pressing it right into the base of Dean’s skull.

God, he needed to come.

But he couldn’t.

Please, not yet. He felt lighter than air, suspended and floating, buffeted and billowing, and the worry dissipated as his body jolted this way and that. He felt debased and subhuman. He felt amazing. He felt along his bonds with tremulous touches, unsure he still had hands to reach with, and he felt only a vague mist at the other end where normally he had someone to feed his overflow into, someone firmly rooted to the ground. The rapture in his head spun and spun and doubled back on itself, and Dean sobbed at having no one to share it with. It was a loss that didn’t linger, as his body tingled from every nerve ending, and he couldn’t hold onto anything as intangible as a Claim-bond.

Michael appeared again just after Dean swallowed Uriel’s spend. Dean could feel him assessing. Dean knew he looked debased, his eyes glazed and his face a disaster, but he couldn’t care. He was in rapturous ecstasy, and he didn’t care about anything but riding the waves and holding off his orgasm.

Michael’s head shook slowly in sufferance, and he moved away.

Jo rolled off of his back. Dean hoped idly that someone caught her, that she’d received everything she needed, that he’d been a comfortable support upon which to be fucked.

Donna took Jack’s spot between Dean’s spread thighs, and her tongue was far more difficult to ignore in its enthusiasm. Donna knew exactly what she was doing, and Dean found himself pressing backward into its plunging reach, only to yipe and tuck under as hard as he could when a paddle landed hard on his thigh. He could smell the mates behind him, and he whined in disappointment. They weren’t paying much attention to Dean. They were feeding off each other, Jody with her paddle, and Donna with her tongue, egging each other on and getting high off the show.

Castiel hadn’t laid a hand on him.

Castiel was still fully dressed.

When Dean finally spotted him through the crowd, Castiel had a plate in his hand and a laugh bubbling in his throat as he stood by the pool with Raphael and Joshua. He wasn’t looking at Dean. He appeared to have forgotten all about his Sub. Shamefully, in the deepest pit of his weakness, Dean stretched out within his bond and touched his Master’s link, entreating, begging.

Nothing.

Nothing at all, not even a slap to his impertinent hand.

Dean wanted to close his eyes and erase that image from his head, but he couldn’t do it. Sam joined them by the pool with his arm around Jessica’s waist. They were enjoying the party, but they seemed to be at an entirely different shindig than Dean was. The band was rocking. The food smelled amazing. Sometimes one of the caterers or household staff crossed his line of vision, but none of them so much as glanced at Dean.

He wasn’t really even present, was he? Was he here at all? He was floating freely, kept aloft by tongues and hands, paddles and cocks. He began to feel himself separate from his body, to view the scene from a place above his shoulder, in all its absurdity. There were two distinct parties underway at once, and Dean’s body served as the lowest subjugation of the baser of the two.

Castiel had peeled apart the layers of Lupin humanity and set them in opposition of one another. The Alpha stood on one end, civil and poised, refined in every crease, hospitable, charming, human. And at the other end of the spectrum, drool fell from Dean’s lips as someone he couldn’t identify by scent speared his ass with an alpha cock and took base pleasure from his body without so much as acknowledging Dean’s existence.

The ache from his ass began to pull his attention, began to make its presence known.

In the dining room, Dean caught sight of Sarah leading a mostly naked Adam by the hand, heading out to the pool where she stopped to chat with Bobby. Adam wrapped an arm around her waist and laughed happily along with the others.

Dean spun high into the clouds. He bit his own lip and drew blood. Sarah and Adam were both gone when he looked again. He felt teeth at his inner thigh, and he cried out. Someone wrapped lips around the head of Dean’s cock while someone else thrust a feminine-scented alpha dick between his lips, and Dean lost track of all the sensations, lost himself completely and came hard with his eyes shut tight.

He came back down to the feel of a leather strap striking his sore ass at a steady, driving pace, and Dean’s eyes overflowed. He sobbed and tried to bury his face in the support at his chin, but there was nowhere to go.

“I do love it when they lose control like this,” said Ketch at his shoulder. Dean felt hands in his hair. His head was lifted roughly even as the strap continued to fall. He tried to breathe normally, but he was crying too hard. Ketch’s thumbs cleared tear marks from his cheeks to no avail. Dean’s torso thrummed with his sobs, and the streaks came right back as new tears fell in steady supply. “There’s nothing more beautiful. You realize how lucky you are?”

Ketch wasn’t talking to Dean.

“Yes, I’m aware,” said Michael at Dean’s other shoulder. Michael’s hand at Dean’s temple, carding his hair away from his face was a lifeline to Dean, and he leaned his face into it. “You’ve got quite a handful yourself there,” Michael pointed out politely, and Ketch chuckled. He wasn’t fooled into believing Michael was envious. Michael didn’t attempt to hide his belief that being Mated to Dean was, in his view, the pinnacle of good fortune.

Whoever was fucking Dean had put their back into it, and he was jounced out of Michael’s hand with a burn at his rim. His mate didn’t renew the touch. He wandered away, and Ketch crossed Dean’s line of sight to follow him. Dean saw Meg nestled into his chest like a spider monkey. As they passed, she winked at Dean again.

The play didn’t falter simply because Dean had blown his load into someone’s mouth. He didn’t get a break. His flaccid cock had no reprieve whatsoever, and he began to grimace as the touches shifted to overstimulating. He continued to grip the handholds as if his grasp was the only thing keeping him from drowning, and he endured. The band played. April sang with them more than once. Michael did too.

The guests sang _‘Happy Birthday’_ to Cas, and the Alpha blew out candles. He opened a few gifts and exclaimed in delight at what he found in the paper. Cake was served. Champaign corks popped.

Dean floated and grunted in unending agony. Beautiful, aching, blissful, soaring agony.

He’d devolved into a place in his head where all that mattered was breathing and holding still. His body jolted with the repetitive power at his back, his bare skin slipping on the leather supporting his torso, to the point where contact lost all meaning except friction and pressure and pain and endurance.

One breath followed another. Images jumped in a way his conscious mind knew wasn’t how reality worked. His upper back stung, but he couldn’t remember what might have caused the pain. Had he been whipped?

The fucking never stopped for long, but everything else happened on and off. Sometimes his mouth was full, and sometimes it fell slack. He had semen in his hair and across his hips. Someone crawled down onto the floor to suck on his toes for a while, and that had felt excruciatingly good.

Dean laid his cheek on the chin support and felt himself drifting off even as his body jolted with another hard fucking from behind. He had no idea how many cocks he’d taken, how many loads leaked from his ass, how stretched his gaping hole had become. He couldn’t keep his eyes open much longer, and he didn’t really want to.

He’d come three times. Somehow, that seemed important to track. He knew, in a detached way, that he could do better if he needed to. But for now, he felt too drained to try.

The last thing he saw as his eyes blinked closed was Castiel watching him from several yards away with a look of concentration on his face.

Dean didn’t really hear his husband call a halt, but his body registered the change, and it melted into the leather supports of the bench. He hoped as he fell asleep, hoped that he’d done well enough to be forgiven, that he’d made his Dom proud, that the feeling in his head wasn’t going to disappear with the morning sun.

Dean was exhausted and spent, debased and debauched. He should feel shamed to his core, but he didn’t. He felt electric, light and floaty, and proud of himself.

He felt worthy.

He hadn’t failed. He hadn’t broken. Falling asleep wasn’t a failure. His hands still clutched, and his knees had formed lasting divots in the cushion. Michael would probably replace the rug beneath the bench rather than attempt to clean it. He hadn’t faltered all night, and he hadn’t so much as considered calling a halt or asking for reprieve. Dean ached everywhere, but he felt glorious.

His consciousness slipped away on that emotion with his husband’s eyes on him: worthy.

 

 

 

Cas was so turned on, he felt built of steel and muscle. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He took the stairs three at a time and stormed into the Master suite, more animal than human. She knelt on the floor with her head down, looking weary.

Fuck weary.

She startled and looked up, eyes wide.

Fuck startled.

If she didn’t expect to be punished, she shouldn’t have provoked.

“Get up,” he commanded harshly, wrenching her to her feet and tossing her easily onto the bed on her belly. She bounced. Castiel’s nostrils flared. His eyes blazed. He shed his blazer, his shirt, kicked off his shoes to thump hard against the wall, and stepped out of his slacks all before she found her balance. He growled at her through his wolf, funneling all of the fury Dean had stoked, all the surprise and hurt and uncertainty, into laying his mate out and taking her apart.

April’s breathing shifted to a fast, light panting. There was fear there.

Good.

Castiel yanked her to the edge of the mattress by her ankle, and he thrust into her before she stopped moving, earning a squawk and a tight clenching of her muscles at her core. She buried her head. He pulled back and then forced her bodily forward as he pounded into her again with a gruff shout.

“If you’re going to behave like him, I’m going to treat you like him,” he promised through the voice of his monstrous wolf. Her body shook with the force of his efforts and her wracking efforts to find her breath without sobbing uncontrollably. He pinned her to the bed with a hand splayed between her shoulder blades, effectively cutting off her air supply, and he fucked her with abandon, turning the wolf fully loose, and using her roughly in every dimension.

April gurgled beneath him, but she didn’t struggle. She went lax, turning herself to his will – even should that mean her death – and she huffed the shallow, insufficient breaths she was afforded. So ramped was his wolf, that he climbed up onto the bed to cover her completely, shoving her upward, biting at her skin and pummeling her from above with massive thrusts of well-conditioned hips. It was a frenzy of sweat and teeth and tight gripping hands, of bruising clenches and power and fury. Everything that Castiel had suppressed downstairs as he forced himself to teach Dean a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget, he unleashed on April.

It wasn’t sex.

It was a statement.

And it wasn’t Castiel who delivered it.

“Thought you could goad me into Claiming Cain didn’t you? Thought it would be hot? You _don’t_ control me, Submissive! And he is _not_ your plaything!”

Castiel released the pressure against her lungs. He pulled roughly out and flipped her over so that her golden eyes caught and stuck on his red ones. “Don’t you _ever_ pull a stunt like that again! Do you hear me?!”

“Yes, Alpha,” she croaked.

“On your feet,” he told her, rising to give her room to sit up. “Hands on the wall. Ass out.”

She scrambled, wobbly, and leaned against the wall beside the window. Outside, cars were shuffling their way in and out of one another as party-goers made their way home around the vehicles of those whose keys hadn’t been returned to them. A sheer, gossamer layer of fabric didn’t hide April’s humiliating position from anyone on the ground, and tired wolves began to assemble to watch, drawing more eyes as others noticed the crowd looking up.

Behind her, Castiel paced, working himself into a headspace that he could work with. She trembled against the wall, flush with adrenalin, unable to reach his humanity through her Mating-bond.

When he stepped aggressively forward and laid his whole shoulder into setting her ass on fire, she lost her breath completely, throwing her head back and screaming silently. There wasn’t a Facility rating for strikes like these. They were brute force and lightning fast, and she flattened against the wall and searched for oxygen. What he could do with a leather strap, with a Hickory switch, with a braided whip, they paled next to what his wolf could do with his bare hand and the intensity of his anger.

It took everything April possessed to keep her legs straight, her hands flat against the plaster, her backside from turning to the wall. She’d taken spankings her whole life, and she knew her own limits, or thought she did. No one had ever struck her like this before. No one had ever had the wherewithal that Castiel’s wolf brought with it. It was only half physical, and that half was devastating. The other half was what kept her lungs from filling, kept her nailed to the wall, kept her unbalanced as she tried to process what was happening. The monster behind her could destroy her in a second, and he was furious.

“You smell like _him!_ ” the beast muttered, mostly to himself. “Every time I smell that scent, I’m going to see you smirking at me, daring me to rip his throat open! You’re going to pay for that!”

He kept it up long enough for the burn in his shoulder to give him pause. He stepped back, huffing hard, panting, oblivious to the audience below. He paced. April trembled. She sucked in a ragged breath and sobbed against the back of her hand.

“Who owns you?” he asked harshly.

“You do, Sir,” she responded without hesitation.

_”WHO OWNS YOU?!!_

“You own me, Alpha!”

“Damn right I do!” He crowded her back tight against the wall with a hand gripping his cock, and he shoved it hard into her channel, grunting loudly. With his free hand, he collected both of her hands and held her by the wrists, pressing them into the wall over her head. His knees bent slightly and edged her legs wider, and he thrust into her painfully, putting his back into it, letting all the aggression from a million micro-irritations over the last months fuel his enraged assault, taking it all out on his diminutive mate, giving everything Dean expected to have claimed for himself to April instead, and holding nothing back. He drooled down her back, the stream of saliva collecting chill bumps as it rolled. His world went hazy and red, everything focused on the task of subduing and humiliating and owning. He shoved his knot into place and wrapped an arm tight around her throat, still pinning her wrists, and she went supremely still. One final thrust tumbled him, and he exploded inside her, pressing his chest and his hips in as tightly as he could, their sweat mingling, their breaths battling against one another.

“You fuck whom I tell you to fuck, Submissive,” he threatened right in her ear. “And you do as I say, or by _God_ I will make you sorry you ever tied yourself to me. If you ever put someone’s safety at risk that way again, you can kiss your musical career goodbye. You won’t be leaving this room.”

“yessir,” she breathed. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

He grunted a reply, keeping his weight pressed against her. The silence lengthened, broken only by the sound of their breathing and April’s occasional weepy hiccupping. Her legs threatened to give way, and Castiel lowered an arm to support her belly and keep her upright.

Slowly, without speaking, the tone of his ire began to lighten. He nosed her hair aside and kissed the side of her throat gently, leaving his lips in place for several breaths as he caught her breathing rhythm and began to shift it somehow to match his. He blinked the red glaze out of his eyes. He felt along his Mating-bond to assess the damage. His hand released her wrists, capturing one hand and beginning a tender massage where he’d pressed his weight in.

“Kitten, breathe with me,” he whispered, despite the fact that she was already matching him breath for breath. Inside his wolf, he felt free, felt released of everything he’d been carrying for so long, felt loose and lazy and a little tender to the touch. “Can you speak?”

“I’m okay, Alpha,” she whispered back. “It hurts. I’m okay. I’m sorry.”

“I know. You did so well for me, love. You’re the strongest Omega I’ve ever known. But we needed that, Kitten. Both of us. I had meant to take the edge off with Dean so I didn’t lose myself with you, but I couldn’t do that, not after the way he set me up.”

“Sir? Alpha. I didn’t need you at half power. Forgive my boldness, but it’s been so long for me, and I needed to be set on fire. It wasn’t too much, Alpha. I needed you at your strongest. Please don’t hold yourself back because you think I’ll break. I won’t break. I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he replied softly, easing the press of his body and massaging her down her ribs and hips, circling his thumbs into the meat of her ass. “Okay, April. I…okay,” he agreed softly. “I needed it too.” He breathed out an impossibly long breath, letting months of pent up stress out against her neck and following it with a kiss where the chill bumps started. He rolled back in his head through his words, spewed with venom, and catalogued everything he needed to rephrase. Her career wasn’t in jeopardy. He suspected she knew that. He rested his forehead against the base of her skull. “Thank you.”

She chuckled softly. “Silly Alpha.”

“Watch it,” he chided without lifting his head, weary beyond one day’s efforts.

“I’m in love with you, Cas,” she told the wall, apropos of helping him find his feet again. An experience that delved that deeply into his wolf had the potential to throw him off for days if he wasn’t eased back into his own head. “You know that, right?”

He lowered his head and kissed her Mating-scar, making her twitch and huff. “I know, Kitten. I love you, too.”

“Is that really what all your scenes with Dean are like?”

He laughed softly, finding himself relaxing with each breath, feeling his place in the world right itself perfectly, with his knot locked in her channel, and his arms wrapping around her where they leaned into the wall. “No, not hardly. Some of them, but not all by a long shot. Usually, my wolf is satisfied with intense play. It may be intense, love, but most of the time, it’s play. It’s only when my wolf is angry that I need to seek something more…strident.” Cas began to nibble at her earlobe.

April crossed her arms against the wall and rested her forehead in them, burying her face. “But why haven’t you ever come to me when you’re in that kind of need? Why only go through Dean? Is marriage really that different from what you have with me?”

“Mmm,” he demurred. “Please don’t be envious. It’s usually Dean who takes my wolf’s wrath because it’s usually Dean who incurs it. You are so good for me, Kitten. You fulfill so much of what I need, what my Alpha requires, what my wolf enjoys when he’s playful. My needs do not dwell in the dark spaces of wrath and vengeance unless provoked. I…forgive me, love…I don’t want to go there with you, not if I don’t have to. It…scares me. I find it disturbing to turn myself over to fury upon your body the way I just did. Maybe tonight was necessary. I don’t know for sure. I don’t have it all straight yet in my head. Maybe we needed to rekindle our connection through fire and pain after being apart for so long. But I beg you not to make a habit of provoking this from me. I fear for us both should that come to pass. You are not Dean, Kitten.”

She leaned her head back into his and nuzzled the side of his face. “If I needed it more often from you, would you do it for me?”

“I would,” he whispered. “Anything.”

“Even if it hurt you to do it?” she challenged softly.

“Anything you need, April. If it’s within my power to grant, it’s yours.”

“Anything except leaving Dean,” she teased.

He pinched her ass, and she yiped, laughing out loud.

“I am not so tired that I can’t find an unpunished spot on your body, Submissive,” he growled playfully. Her head flopped back to land on his shoulder, and he ran his fingers through the golden strands, lank with sweat.

“Cas, I’m…” She paused, searching for words that wouldn’t seem corny. “I’m truly sorry for trying to nudge you into an Alpha confrontation with Cain.” She sighed heavily. She could feel his breath on her cheek. It smelled of ginger ale. “I feel…attracted to him, and I didn’t know what to do with that. I want to be honest with you, with Michael. I’m ashamed of myself, but I don’t know how to turn off this attraction. I thought that maybe if you fought and defeated him, humiliated him, brought out the Sub in him so I could see it, it might help me get over this weird fawning feeling I can’t seem to shake. Maybe we should find me a new chaperone.”

“Kitten, it’s not a problem for you to be attracted to your chaperone. All that matters is what you actually do. Can you still work with him? Can you allow him to do his job in all the ways his job needs to manifest?”

“Yes, Alpha. I need you to be all right with a little fawning, I guess. I’m learning to trust his judgment.”

“Are you and Cain going to run away together?” There was a teasing lilt to Castiel’s question, and April snorted at the absurdity. Cas straightened up and pulled April to stand free of the wall. He turned her a bit so that he could look into her eyes. “Are you falling for him?”

“Not even a little,” she assured him with a simple kiss to the tip of his nose which made him frown and tick back in irritation. The look on April’s face spoke for the assurance through her bond. “I went there once, Alpha. This isn’t that. Not even a little,” she whispered again.

“Good,” he said darkly as he nudged in to kiss her lips. “Then I can live with it.”

 

 

 

 

 

Dean came around much later with Michael nestled close and a smell of arnica in the air. Dean breathed in the silence for a moment. He could tell Michael was awake even though he couldn’t see a thing. He rolled from his side to his back and rubbed his face. His internal clock told him it was very late or very early, depending on which side of the calendar they followed.

“’S’Cas?” he slurred.

“He’s in with his other brat. He’ll be back in a bit, Dean. He’s spending the night here with you, but he needed to tend to Pete first.”

“Mmph,” Dean acknowledged sleepily. “S’everyone gone?”

Michael chuckled. “We’ve got a few staying over. Not everyone was in any condition to get home safely. Fred took custody of several sets of car keys.”

“Good,” Dean mumbled. “Good party then.” He wrapped an arm over his eyes and worked on not grunting into each pained breath. “’S’not a party if no one crashes on the couch.”

“You’re adorable when you’re Sub-drunk, alpha. Go back to sleep. I’ll watch over you until Cas comes in.”

“You leaving?” Dean asked when the implication of the word ‘until’ made it through his cobwebs.

Michael pressed a hand to Dean’s chest to help himself lean up on his hip. “I promised Pete I’d sleep in her room once all the activities died down tonight. She’s…Dean, I think she’s finally coming back around to me. We’ve got babysitting arranged all night. I need to spend some time with her. She’s important to me. You don’t mind, do you? You won’t be alone.”

“’Spend some time’ is code for you plan to fuck her,” Dean said gracelessly.

Michael scoffed into the darkness. “Well spotted, genius,” he replied. “Yes, I plan to fuck her. It’s been ages.”

“Not ages,” Dean protested, shifting position and knocking rudely into his mate as he tried to find a comfortable position without rolling onto his belly.

Michael laughed at him quietly. “I love you when you’re sore and bitchy, Dean, but I’ve made a date, and I plan to keep it. You don’t need me here anyway. All you care about tonight is Cas.”

“Fine. Whatever. Go screw your brains out. I don’t care.” Dean gave up trying to settle on his back and rolled over, cinching his pillow in and wrapping both arms beneath it.

“Good,” Michael said, dropping a kiss to his nose. “Because I wasn’t giving you a vote. And you’re one to talk. We had to scrape some of your brains off the floor downstairs with a putty knife just now.”

Dean scrunched his face up and dodged backward, too slow to avoid the kiss. “Asshole,” he mumbled and turned his head the other way. Michael laughed again.

“I love you too, oh mighty alpha father of my children.” Michael laid back on his back and gave Dean a few inches of space. He let the night fall silent again although neither of them fell asleep.

Dean blinked at the far wall, searching inside himself to catalogue all of the sensations that lingered. His body was clean and naked beneath the warm layers that Michael insisted upon using, even in summer. He felt like melted butter congealing on the countertop. He felt like he might collapse if he tried to walk himself to the bathroom. He felt amazing.

“You did good tonight,” Michael told him quietly. “I’m proud of you. Everyone at the party was jealous as hell of me and Cas, and I can’t ask for more than that.”

“Mm,” Dean grumped. “I fucked up and got you cut from the roster,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I’m not mad, Dean. Watching without being able to contribute was unexpectedly erotic. You were amazing. How are you feeling about it now? You don’t feel a drop coming, do you?”

“Nah. I don’ feel anything coming at all. Probly for a long time.”

Michael chuckled. “You know what I meant, alpha. You’re all right?”

“Yeah,” Dean told him honestly, turning his head back around to face him and lifting up onto his elbows. “Yeah, I’m good. Wasted. But good. I’m not dropping. I’m okay, babe.”

The door opened quietly, and Cas slipped in wearing his bathrobe. Dean shuffled backward into Michael to give him room, and the Alpha shed his robe as he slid in beside his husband.

“That’s my cue, then,” Michael said softly. He kissed Dean’s lips and climbed out of the bed on the far side as Cas took Dean into his arms, holding him from behind and attaching his lips to Dean’s shoulder. He had an intensity to him that told Michael he shouldn’t dawdle. “Gonna go see if the pups need their mama real quick. Love you,” he said to neither of them in particular, and he crept naked out the door, closing it behind him with a snick.

“Cas,” Dean breathed.

“I’m here, baby.”

“I’m so sorry.” And there were the damned tears again. What the fuck, Winchester? “Cas, I’m sorry.”

“Dean, do you have any idea how long I’ve craved a scene like you honored me with tonight?”

Dean looked up at him with eyes past any wakeful reaction. “Since day one?”

Cas smiled. “Since day one,” he confirmed. “Thank you.”

“Thanks for waiting for me,” the Sub mumbled sleepily. “I didn’t honor you though, Alpha. I stole from you.”

“Shh, shh. You’re such a good boy for me, Pet. Do you have any idea what tonight did for me? I am so proud of you, Dean Michael. You take my breath away, and you were under no obligation to meet that fantasy of mine. The path you’ve taken has been yours alone. I’m lucky to be on the receiving end of the dividends your work is paying out. That was the best birthday gift you could ever give me, but only because it was one _you_ wanted to give.” He kissed Dean’s shoulder, his throat, his jaw. He laid Dean out on his back and moved over him, kissing as he went and whispering praise. When Cas entered Dean, it was with agonizing tenderness.

Dean wept silently the entire time, and Castiel never stopped kissing his tears off his cheeks, never stopped the flow of praise, letting Dean experience his painful release, and working him tenderly through it.

Cas felt himself come full circle as he succored his husband back to terra firma in his own head.

Sleep took him, but not before his Claim over Dean renewed with a tenderness that he rarely deployed during a Claim. He didn’t need any aggression tonight. The night’s activities had primed Dean to Submit body and soul and to acknowledge his rightful place below Castiel’s shoulder. If they needed to unpack the mess they’d made together, there would be time for that on the morrow. As his eyes slipped closed, Castiel felt no need to further the conversation. In the deepest sense, he felt he and Dean understood one another, and he felt replete for the first time in months.

Cas took one final deep inhale, Dean’s crown at his chin, Dean’s scent in his nostrils, and he fell into a deep, rejuvenating sleep.

They woke to sunlight streaming in on a tangle of legs and a couple of Omegas splayed out to either side.

 

 

 

Neither Dean nor April made it to breakfast. Sarah trudged down the back stairs with a rumpled Adam in tow, searching for coffee. Michael watched the two of them negotiate the coffee maker clumsily, and he offered them an amused expression and a too-cheerful, “Morning!” with a happy upward inflection.

Sarah grumbled. Adam kept his eyes lowered, but he was wearing Sarah’s bathrobe, so there was no hiding that they’d recently been undressed together.

“So, what’s new?” Michael asked brightly. “Sleep well?”

“Michael, go screw yourself,” Sarah said into her cup. Adam shot an alarmed look at her, but Michael cackled.

Castiel shook his newspaper out and folded it to lie flat on the table. He watched Adam stir cream into his coffee. “Adam, you’re welcome to stay for breakfast,” he said kindly.

“Thank you, Alpha. I need to get going.”

Cas tilted his head a little. “You do have permission to stay over, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, Sir,” he responded quickly. “Benny knows where I am. It’s just…I need to get home.”

“Well, sit with us for a few minutes anyway. You don’t need to go just yet. Have a croissant.”

Adam nodded politely, shot another glance at Sarah, and took the chair next to Michael. Michael grinned back and forth between them. Sarah whapped him on the head as she passed. She sat beside Adam, pulled two plates from the stack in the middle of the table and handed one to Adam. He took it shyly.

“The thing is, Alpha,” Adam said hesitantly as he shredded his croissant nervously on his plate. “I kind of need to get going. I have something I need to tell my Alpha. I sort of messed up last night.”

Castiel’s eyes pivoted between Adam and Sarah. “Messed up how?”

“If it’s all the same, I’d rather keep it between Benny and I.”

Cas leaned into his forearm on the table to explain that it wasn’t all the same to him when Jack and Jo stumbled in, as motivated for coffee as Sarah had been.

“You two look like shit,” Michael observed. Cas pursed his lips.

“I know you don’t have a Pack compound yet,” the Alpha said testily. “But you do have homes. Is the entire Lafitte Pack under my roof this morning?”

“Shh,” Jo shushed, with her eyes closed and two fingers over her mouth. “Not so loud.”

“Sir, please,” Adam said quietly. “I don’t mean to be rude. I need to get home.”

“You’re excused, Omega,” Cas said gently. “Do you have a ride?”

“Yes, Sir. Alpha Lisa is on her way to pick me up. I should wait for her outside.”

“Off you go, then. Take some breakfast with you. I hope you know where your clothes are. I’m afraid I didn’t keep track last night.” Cas picked his paper back up and turned a few pages, ignoring Adam as the Omega dropped a sweet kiss upon Sarah’s disappointed lips. Cas ignored Jo and Jack sharing a single chair serving themselves breakfast with a groggy, post-coital closeness. But his forbearance was a ruse, and the moment he was certain Adam was out of earshot, Cas set his paper back down and fixed his eyes on Sarah.

“Sir?” she asked, reading his focus far better than most apes could.

“What is Adam in such a hurry to tell his Alpha about?” he asked with a brow cocked.

“Oh, that.” Sarah dropped her gaze. Cas cleared his throat meaningfully, and she looked up again. Jo, Jack, and Michael were all watching silently, eating slowly. “You’re not upset that we had sex, are you, Sir? We’re both consenting adults. I thought it was a given. It didn’t occur to me to consult you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, beta,” he replied irritably. “Fuck whomever you will. Asking me for permission to engage in sexual activity isn’t one of your rules. However, something about your activities has badly spooked Adam, and I need to know what it is. What is he on his way home to confess?”

“What makes you think it’s a confession?” she tried bravely, raising her chin. “Who said what he’s upset about has anything to do with me?”

“Does it?” Cas asked. He refolded the paper and shoved it a foot down the table, ending the charade that he might still be reading.

“Answer carefully, Sarah,” Michael advised into his coffee.

“Michael…” Cas warned.

“It’s stupid,” Sarah protested. “We both have turnstile clearance at The Facility, Adam and I. It goes without saying that we’re both clean. So, we didn’t think to talk about it before we fucked. What’s the big deal? There’s no way that everyone who had sex here last night made a big announcement before they got into it. Wasn’t that the whole point of the evening? To bring together a whole crowd of people who didn’t need to discuss it first? Everyone knows everyone else. The ACRI medical staff can spot an STD miles away. We’re all clean.”

Castiel blinked at her. His forehead grew frown lines as he realized what she was saying. “You didn’t use a condom?”

“No, but I knew he was clean! And we’re different species, so birth control isn’t an issue!”

Cas scratched idly at his chin, thoughtful. “Adam is a contractor. He is tested daily, and his sexual activities outside of work are reported and vetted. You have good reason to believe he’s clear of infection, parasites, or disease. That assumption is valid, Sarah. But you, on the other hand…your turnstile matrix doesn’t screen for the same things. You aren’t regulated to the same extent. And wolves are vulnerable to infections from apes that many Primates are unaware they carry.”

“I know that, Alpha,” she tried again, valiantly. “But I know I’m clean, too! I haven’t had sex in months. I’m clean. I passed my physical with flying colors, and I haven’t been intimate with anyone since then.” She felt her face grow red with their eyes all on her as she admitted her scant sexual history right there at the breakfast table.

“Did Adam have that knowledge, Sarah?” Cas asked bluntly. “Firsthand? Did you tell him that before you took him to your bedroom?”

She dropped her eyes again. “No, Sir. But I would have spoken up if I hadn’t been sure of us both. I’m not stupid!”

“You didn’t explicitly volunteer, and Adam didn’t ask?” Castiel pressed.

“No, Sir.”

Cas regarded her silently, letting the weight of the error grow heavy. Gabriel wandered in, naked. He filled a mug at the counter before taking his usual seat. He could clearly feel the tension in the air, but he ignored it. He went for the croissants and butter without a word to anyone. He spooned jam on top of his bread as high as he could balance it.

Sarah swallowed uncomfortably and shifted in her chair. “I would have said something, Alpha, if I’d needed to.”

“Now’s the time to stop talking,” Gabe advised without looking up or trying to figure out what the issue was.

“Gabriel, your assistance is not warranted,” Cas chided. Gabe shrugged.

“I don’t think you get it, Sarah,” Jo said starkly from beneath her mate. “Adam’s not just any hookup. He’s a contractor and an Omega. An unmated Omega male. He’s vulnerable. And he’s valuable up at The Facility. What you two forgot to talk about might have just got his ass sequestered from working for the next six weeks. We can’t afford that. _He_ can’t afford that. And it’s on him, sister. He’s the professional, and he should never have fucked without a conversation on the front end. But you’re a player here, too. You can’t be that blasé about the risks we run. You can’t make any assumptions. You can’t take an Omega into your bedroom and play fast and loose with the risks he runs.”

“I…didn’t realize,” Sarah said softly, her blush intensifying. “But there isn’t actually a risk. I can tell them. I’ll call Benny myself. And the medical department. There’s no need for a quarantine. I’m clean. I swear.”

Castiel shifted his gaze from Jo back to Sarah. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and scooted his chair back. “I believe you and I need to go have a talk, Sarah,” he said simply, and she felt the ground fall away from her feet. “Will you join me, please?” He stood and waited calmly for her. She swallowed hard. Slowly, she pushed her chair back and made it to her feet.

“Alpha, I didn’t realize. You have to believe me.”

“I’m not going to punish you, beta,” he replied. “You’re getting a warning this morning. But it’s clear that I’ve left too much unspoken in my expectations, and I mean to correct that immediately. Come with me unless you prefer to have this discussion publicly.”

“What’s going to happen to Adam?” she asked as she rounded the table to join him.

“Benny will punish him soundly,” Cas told her. “Unlike you, he cannot claim ignorance as an excuse.” Cas led her through the Parlor and across to his office where he held the door open for her. She entered with trepidation. Sarah had already spent hours in this office, but never under circumstances like this before. She waited for him to gesture before she sat down.

“What else?” she asked bravely.

“Benny will report the contact to medical, and they will assess the risks to Adam and to our clientele.”

“Can I help?” Sarah prompted. “I’ll take a new test, whatever they need to test me for. We can clear this right up. I’m clean, Castiel.”

Cas nodded. “Thank you, Sarah. That will indeed speed their decision ultimately. But it’s unlikely to prevent Adam from facing consequences at work. Engaging in sex without first ascertaining the risks to his person is inexcusable. If his supervisor or the medical department recommend he be sequestered or cited, I will approve that request without hesitation. Last night’s festivities may have seemed reckless to you, but I assure you, we took no undue risks. There is deliberation to our madness. And while I’m quite certain Adam is not the only contract employee who will be making a report to medical this morning, I expect he’s the only one who failed to discuss sexual history and risks prior to engaging in activities. The fact that that happened in my house, with a member of _my_ Pack, brings shame upon my home, Sarah. I will have to make amends to Benny, Alpha-to-Alpha for the potential damage to his property.”

“But there was no damage!” she protested.

“ _Potential_ damage. At the time of the activities, a member of the Lafitte Pack was _not_ informed of the risks to his person, and no amount of wording after the fact alters that. We may seem to take exceptional risks, Sarah, but we don’t. Not ever. Do you understand me?”

“I don’t agree that what we did was risky.”

Cas shook his head subtly. “That wasn’t the question.”

She sighed heavily and gripped the edge of the couch cushion beneath her. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”

“Good,” he said firmly. “Then understand this as well. This is a new rule. It is specific to you and you alone. Are you listening?”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled petulantly, channeling Michael without really meaning to.

“If you ever engage in sexual activity of any kind without first discussing the risks to yourself and your partner or partners and taking appropriate safeguards, I will strap your bare ass until you cannot sit for days.”

Sarah’s face turned a brilliant shade of red, and her eyes welled mutinously with tears. “Yes, Alpha,” she said angrily. Whether she was angry at him or at herself she couldn’t have said.

He sat still and held her eye for several moments, letting the repercussions settle. “I don’t recommend you test me on this,” he told her without pity. “This is your one warning, and it’s a warning that a Lupin in this Pack would not have been granted. If you insist on behaving irresponsibly, you will be sharply corrected.”

“May I go now?” she asked, staring at her bare feet.

His brow rose in surprise, and she could feel its shift without looking up. “Have you been dismissed?” he asked rhetorically.

Sarah wilted. “I’m sorry I got him in trouble at home and at work, but I didn’t put him at risk of STDs, Alpha. I get it. I won’t do it again. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Sarah. That’s half of what I need from you.

“Half? Sir, what did I miss? I’m sorry and I promise to do better. What else is there? I’ll call Benny and Adam and apologize in person.” Castiel didn’t feed her an answer. He laced his fingers before him on his desk, and he waited.

“It would’ve been less painful if you just spanked me and got it over with!” she decried.

“Indeed. Don’t tempt me.”

“Alpha, please! I don’t know what you want from me!”

“I’ll let you mull it over until this evening, then,” he told her coldly. “We’ll pick this conversation up again before dinner tonight. You have the day to consider what you need to say to me. Seek advice from anyone you like. And yes, a phone call to the Lafitte house would be time well spent. You’re dismissed.”

Sarah didn’t hesitate. She left in a huff. Cas watched her go. At least she hadn’t slammed his office door as she exited. She had wasted no time in testing the boundaries of her Pack membership, and he wondered idly with a thumbnail scratching his upper lip if she knew that’s what she was doing.

Cas pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and texted a quick rejoinder to his best friend, picking up their latest conversation from where they’d left off:

_”You win. I owe you a pitcher at Zeke’s. Meet you tonight after dinner.”_

The response icon blinked for a moment, and then Benny’s answer popped up:

_”You never stood a chance, Alpha. Do I know my boy or what? You didn’t cripple her did you?”_

_”Who me? Didn’t lay a hand on her.”_ Cas smirked as he hit send.

 _”Maybe not,”_ Benny texted back. _”But I bet you talked her ear off.”_

_”Guilty and unrepentant. I’ll bring ice tonight for your paddle arm.”_

Cas sent it with a small smile before shutting his screen down and shoving it back into his pocket. He had no idea how many of his Facility Pack had slept over last night, but he trusted Tony and Michael to see them all fed and reoriented back toward their respective homes with an aspirin and a bottle of water. Cas avoided the kitchen for the remainder of the morning. His pups would be waking and needy, and his Subs were both too sore to do much but grumble into their pillows for hours yet.

Cas hummed a cheerful tune as he took the stairs upward from the foyer. He was happy this morning, and that had not been a foregone conclusion only a day ago. Somehow, Dean had known what he really needed and had given him precisely that. How did Dean always do that? When every voice in Castiel’s multilevel psyche clamored for order and precision, Dean always showed up and scrambled it, enraging the beasts on every floor in Castiel’s head, tangling him up until he feared it would take weeks to work it all out again. Cas feared sometimes that he and Dean, operating at cross purposes as they so often did, were doomed to struggle at odds forever. But then Dean took the very crux of the problem between his sharpest canines and crushed every semblance of order Cas had managed to stack up into wobbly organization. It left Cas reeling every time, and it turned his control on its ear.

Every damned time.

And then Cas lost it, unleashed himself, let himself go, tore new orifices in whomever was stupid enough to be caught standing close by, and washed everything out in one great flood. It was terrifying to think about what could happen if he let things go too far. It was a terrible idea to stabilize each other this way. Wasn’t it? Shouldn’t Cas be angry?

But in the rearview mirror, it always left the Alpha lighter than air, skipping as he hummed, and welcoming the sunlight that flooded through the nursery windows as he scooped up his children one after another, to dance easily in the sunbeams with his progeny in his arms.

In the afterglow, Cas didn’t care that Dean had played him. He didn’t care because however it happened, they had both needed last night, in all its excess. Cas had needed it as much as Dean did. What did it matter who engineered it? It was a fact, Cas conceded as he smiled down at Kat, that Dean was better at the choreography of the heavier scenes than Cas was. Cas always feared going too far. He always pulled his punches. It was only when Dean provoked him beyond his ability to temper all but the worst impulses that they both fed off the same gluttonous meal.

Cas giggled a little, rocking his hips and swaying his daughter. Only Michael had really gone to bed hungry last night, and Michael had it coming. Cas didn’t pity him at all.

“O-pop had it coming, didn’t he?” Cas asked provocatively. Kat shoved her fist into her mouth. “Quite right,” her Papa agreed. “It’s time for all good puppies to have their breakfast. Let’s get clean diapers first, and then we’ll find you something to eat.” He leaned over the crib where the remaining pups squirmed at his voice, and he touched Alex’s cheek, Jimmy’s brow, Idgie’s shoulder.

“You’re all so beautiful.”

Cas wasn’t surprised when Michael turned up. He had likely heard Cas through the intercom that was turned on as a baby monitor. There was a schedule to maintain, and the morning routine went easier with two sets of hands. The Omega wasn’t in any hurry though. He sidled up behind his Alpha, propped his chin intimately on Castiel’s shoulder, and looked down upon their waking pups. Michael’s easy chuckle made Cas smile along.

“I give it six months, tops, before all four of them have you wrapped around their little fingers,” Michael predicted. Cas shrugged. There was no point arguing the obvious. The morning rays made Cas feel especially sappy. Michael took his silence for the confirmation it was. He nodded sagely to himself and picked J.D. up first.

“You’re in a good mood this morning,” Michael observed.

“Mm,” Cas answered as he set Kat down on the low twin bed and began rifling through the dresser for clothes to dress the four pups in. “It’s a lovely morning.”

Michael didn’t try to hide his laugh. “Right,” he agreed caustically but without heat. “A lovely morning.”

“Something to say, Omega?” Cas asked without looking up from the onesies he was counting out.

Michael chuckled again. “He was right, wasn’t he?”

“Who, Dean? Yes, it looks that way. Last night was astoundingly, unpredictably satisfying to me.”

“Unpredictably?” Michael challenged. He finished changing Jimmy and handed the newly cleaned pup to Papa for dressing. Michael collected Kat and laid her on the table with a tickle to her belly that had her kicking out vigorously.

Cas began to dress his son, forgetting for the millionth time that the head needed to go in first. “Before we did it, I would have said a night like what we just did would have been for Dean and Dean alone. But I was swept off my feet just watching him work. It was magical without my ever touching him. I can’t explain that, nor why having him blindside me with it doesn’t matter one whit this morning. I feel I could take on the world. I feel like a new man, Michael. I went from the party to my mate’s needy arms last night with a zing in my groin and a bounce in my step. I let it build up all night, and then I unloaded it on April. I woke up this morning feeling like the sun shines just for me.”

“Huh,” Michael answered. “Yeah, I guess. Here.” Michael handed Kat to Cas and picked Alex up, leaving Idgie for last. She was the most patient, and Michael usually rewarded her for that with a little extra cuddling after all the diapers were changed. “You and Dean both, I think. He’s tired and sore, but he’s still floating a bit, and he’s so proud of himself he’s fixing to bust through the ceiling. So much for discouraging that kind of impertinence from your Subs.”

“Indeed,” Cas agreed, growing more solemn. He kissed the bottoms of Kat’s feet, and she graced him with an enormous grin, quite a gift from the usually dour pup. “I believe I’m fighting a losing battle when it comes to maintaining full control over our scene-planning. Dean’s always been at least a step ahead of me. Perhaps I need to acknowledge that he always will be – that he _should_ be.”

“You went too easy on Sarah, Alpha,” Michael changed subjects, but Cas was prepared for that.

“No. I didn’t. She needed the experience to unfold just as it did. Don’t presume, Omega.”

“She’s not a wolf,” Michael continued. “But she’s been around long enough to have known her little urchin wide-eyed, ‘But I didn’t know’ wouldn’t fly. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve blistered them. You’re playing favorites.”

Cas took Alex from his mother without a word and began to dress him while Michael went for Emma. He spoke cheerfully to his oldest pup long enough to earn a laugh and a squeal before he defended himself. “Michael, I have one chance to get my message across without needing a strap to sink the message in for me. Sarah believes that the lecture was worse. I’m going to allow her to continue believing that for now.”

Michael scoffed, and Emma laughed at her O-pop’s noises, so Michael did it again, laughing softly at his daughter’s glee. “She only believes that because she’s never been strapped by you.”

“Be that as it may, I’m going to allow her to hold that misconception for as long as I can. The next step from here is a momentous one, and it’s critical that Sarah and I are both ready.”

“Whatever,” Michael dismissed the Alpha’s concern. “No one’s ever ready, Cas.”

“And you?” Castiel asked vaguely, finishing with Alex and lifting the pup to his shoulder.

“Am I ready?” Michael asked, turning alarmed eyes on his Alpha.

Cas burst out laughing. “No. No. Apologies, Omega. You’re not in any trouble.” He paused to laugh a little longer and caress Alex’s back gently. “We’ve established that Dean and I are both in excellent moods this morning. I can attest that April is likewise quite content after her experiences with the three of us last night. And what about you? Were you able to glean a modicum of satisfaction with the way everything occurred?”

“You really do talk like that all the time, don’t you? You know that’s weird…?”

“Yes, I’ve been told.”

“I had a good night, if that’s what you’re asking. It didn’t go how I planned, but…” Michael took Alex and let Cas have Emma to change her out of her pajamas. “…yeah, I guess Dean really did know best. I have to say, watching over him all night without putting a hand in…It let me focus on what he was experiencing from a side I don’t normally see. I’m not saying I wanna do that every day. And if I hadn’t had a chance to ease the throttle a little with Pete afterward. I mean, I can tug one out with the best of ‘em, but masturbation doesn’t work so well once you’re really ramped up.”

Cas nodded serenely. “That’s true. So, you’re satisfied?”

“Probably not half as satisfied as you are,” Michael muttered under his breath, reading the immense fulfillment that eked off Castiel in waves, surrounded as he was by the proof of his substantial virility. Michael’s eyes rolled good-naturedly, but he brought himself back. He had something to say, and he needed to strike the right tone.

“Cas,” Michael hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to put it. He licked his lips. “Alpha, I’m sorry I handled my Release the way I did. Am I…forgiven? If I promise to ask for it from now on?”

Cas smiled a tight-lipped smile. Tight, but warm. The smile crinkled the thirty-seven-year-old crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes, and Michael felt the warmth blanket him. Cas finished with Emma and carried her across to Michael, nestling the pup between them. He put an easy hand on the back of Michael’s neck and rested his forehead against Michael’s.

“There is nothing you could ever do for which I would not forgive you, sweet Omega. I understand what drove you, and I understand how Dean turned your impulse to his own uses. You’re not responsible for Dean’s behavior, Michael, only your own.”

“So…is Dean forgiven?” Michael asked with his brows pulled high. “Last night was intense, but it wasn’t exactly a punishment.”

It was Castiel’s turn to scoff. “Truthfully, I haven’t decided yet, Michael. If you weren’t his Dom, I would tell you that it’s none of your business. But if I determine he would benefit from a direct punishment, you will need to know what it is. I promise to inform you as soon as I make that decision. Much of it will depend upon Dean this morning.”

On the bed, Kat began to fuss. She flailed with both arms and both feet, and she managed to clock her brother in the nose, which set him off. Cas let Michael scoop Emma away from him. He hurried to the bed, hoisting the two of them carefully. “Let’s get them nursing,” he suggested. Michael had no problem carrying the other two. They rounded the corner together, all four pups beginning to voice adamant opinions.

“Okay, but Sarah,” Michael continued, raising his voice a little. “She told me you’re expecting more of an apology from her, but she doesn’t know what she missed. What should I tell her? How can any of us advise her when we weren’t there to know what she left out?” April was already shoving herself painfully to an upright position. She reached for Kat as the pups came into range. Cas let her extract the little girl while he bounced Jimmy, trying to distract him and buy some time. Michael dropped Emma into Dean’s personal space. The alpha curled around his irate daughter wordlessly, shuffling over to make room for Michael to climb over and sit between them in the middle of the bed and lean against the headboard, offering his nipple to Alex.

“What she apologized for, Michael, was for getting Adam into trouble with his home Alpha and his supervisor at work. As of now, that’s all she’s conceded she did wrong. She has promised not to allow the same mistake to occur again, but she hasn’t owned up fully to making it in the first place. It seems to me that she believes a promise to avoid recurrence is equal to an acknowledgment of guilt. I believe differently, and I will await her realization.”

“What’s this?” Dean asked blearily. He shuffled over a little further to cradle his daughter without having to sit up on his backside.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Michael promised his mate with a squeeze to Dean’s wrist.

“Sarah? And Adam?” Dean asked. “Yeah. I saw them together last night. Didn’t look like anything to get wadded over to me. Looked pretty damned consensual. He had his puppy-dog eyes on.”

“Yes,” Cas conceded. “It wasn’t the sex, Dean. It was the failure to establish safety parameters beforehand, a failure that even an ape shouldn’t need to be reminded of at her age.”

“He didn’t tell her his safeword?”

Cas turned his back and began pacing and bouncing Jimmy, who was growing angrier the longer his breakfast was withheld. Emma had settled right in, pulling her Daddy’s pinkie into her mouth and sucking furiously on it while he smiled down at her.

“It wasn’t safewords, Dean,” Michael answered. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Here, Cas,” April prompted, settling Kat in on her left side. “Bring him in. I can get them both on at once. I’ve been practicing.” Cas didn’t need to be told twice. He oriented Jimmy to rest in April’s palm like a football with his legs under her arm, his arms embracing her side-on. Jimmy didn’t care that his usual position was thrown out. He knew where the milk came from and he was all about that.

“You’re amazing,” Michael told her, leaning over to kiss her cheek. He helped her resituate Kat with his free hand while he was bent close, and she smiled happily at him.

“And hungry,” she said firmly.

“Right,” Cas agreed. “Be right back. Any requests?”

“Maybe more of that avocado toast Tony served last night?” April asked with her head down.

“Avocado toast, coming up. Michael?”

“Yes, please. Same.”

“Dean?”

“Fuck no! If I see another slice of that green slime, I’m gonna puke.”

Cas laughed. “Serves you right, Winchester.”

Dean pulled his eyes away from his daughter to peek at his husband. “You’re going to make me eat it, aren’t you?”

Cas smiled smugly. “I should. You deserve it.”

“But…?”

“But I won’t. Would an omelet be more to your taste?”

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean peeked upward again and melted. There it was. That was the look, the sappy one. That was what he’d struggled and cried and suffered and sweated for. It was adoration. It was a look that said Castiel considered himself blessed. Dean held his eyes for long enough to shift from ‘meeting his eyes’ to _staring._ His husband commanded full mastery of nonverbal communication, and Dean smirked. None of that adoration was truly contingent. It hadn’t really been withheld at all. It was Dean’s no matter what passed between them. They would need to talk later, but for right now, as Dean’s ass throbbed beneath the blanket and his beloved Idgie suckled his fingertip, growing impatient when it produced no nourishment, there was nothing left unsaid. Cas smiled softly with his eyes.

Dean winked. “Be sure to have some of that avocado crap yourself though. Eat up. Get it out of the house.”

Cas laughed. “We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual contact that is of dubious consent. There's no actual dub-con here, but the lines of communication weren't followed prior to. Assumptions were made, control was taken, questions weren't asked. We can apply this warning to several of the scenes in this posting, explicit and implicit. So be aware. It's getting rape-y again.
> 
> Warning for coerced sexual contact that runs counter to character's sexual orientation. 
> 
> As always, please comment if you wanna. I love comments almost as much as I love my dogs. No obligations though. Seriously. Jacksonville is in less than a month, and I'm stoked. I don't know yet whether that'll change my posting schedule or not. We'll see. I'm very much hoping our Moose can stay out of jail long enough to attend. 🤔😉

**Author's Note:**

> We're off again. It will be slower. They should (HA) be shorter. As always, comments from the Pack are encouraged and oh so welcome.


End file.
